


they shine for you

by nightswatch



Series: six feet under the stars [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire are on the road again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Come away with me,” Enjolras said. God, this could go so very wrong. “Please,” he added, just for good measure.

Grantaire didn’t look exactly happy, mostly surprised and on the verge of telling him to get the fuck out and never come back again. He was almost expecting it, this whole thing had been a stupid idea to begin with. He usually wasn’t one to make rash decisions, but the thought that he might lose Grantaire had driven him to consider desperate measures.

Grantaire blinked. “What?”

“Let’s go somewhere, I have a car, we can go wherever you want, let’s just get out of the city.”

“I ask you to give me a little time and you show up here and ask me to run away with you?”

“Technically, I…” He shrugged. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“This is a really bad idea,” Grantaire said and tugged at Enjolras’ scarf. “The most horrible idea ever,” he continued. “It’s not going to solve anything.”

Enjolras bit his lip. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly and let go of Grantaire’s wrist. “Sorry I came here. I just… I needed to try, you know.” He was supposed to be having dinner with his family right now and Grantaire obviously didn’t want him here so he might as well leave. He walked back towards the door, not sure if he’d manage to even say goodbye.

“Enjolras?” Grantaire said, his tone almost resigned. “Did you even think this through? I mean you surely don’t want to drive around in your convertible in that weather, there’s-”

“It’s about 1300 miles to New Orleans,” Enjolras interrupted. He had thought this through, he’d spent half an hour looking up possible destinations and had annoyed his father until he’d let him borrow his car. “I borrowed my dad’s old Mercedes, I have my bags packed, be both have two weeks off, we could spend New Year’s down there and then come back.”

“New Orleans?” Grantaire asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

Enjolras shrugged. “I’m open to suggestions, but I thought it would be nice.”

“And warm,” Grantaire continued for him, “like in California.”

“Yes, like in California,” Enjolras agreed. He didn’t allow himself to hope just yet, even though Grantaire seemed to warm to the idea. “My dad has a friend who owns a hotel down there, if I call him, he’ll get us a room.” His father had also offered to book him a flight, but Enjolras had refused. That wasn’t the point.

“You really _did_ think about this,” Grantaire said, sounding impressed. He sighed. “There are things we need to talk about.”

“I know.” Enjolras wasn’t particularly looking forward to those talks, but he’d agree to anything if it meant that Grantaire would come with him.

“Give me ten minutes to pack a bag,” Grantaire said and immediately started throwing clothes into his backpack, vanished into his bathroom, picked up random things around his apartment, all the while muttering about stupid ideas and not having enough clothes.

Grantaire finally pulled on his red beanie. At least today he’d need it.

He pinned a note to Cosette’s door, explaining where he’d gone, and hid his spare key under her doormat.

* * *

Enjolras let out a frustrated grunt. The roads were covered with a soft, white layer, flurries of snow was all he could see, Grantaire was fast asleep in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the progress they weren’t making.

Enjolras had let Grantaire pick a radio station that seemed to play nothing but rock ballads and he was still listening to it, even though Grantaire was snoring softly and wouldn’t even notice if he changed it. Grantaire had been eerily quiet once he’d got into the old and rusty Mercedes that Enjolras’ dad only kept because it had “sentimental value” as he kept saying.

“Mmm, where are we?” Grantaire sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Holy shit, Enjolras, how can you drive in this weather?”

“Well, we’re not going very fast,” Enjolras said bitterly. The roads were pretty much deserted. “We’re about an hour outside of New York.” It had taken them more than twice of the time to get here, though.

“Maybe we should just go back.”

Enjolras huffed angrily.

“You want to keep going,” Grantaire said. It wasn’t a question, he knew that Enjolras did whatever he wanted to do once he’d set his mind to it.

He kept his eyes fixed on the road. “I do.”

“At least pull over at the next motel, we can keep going tomorrow, it’ll stop snowing, let’s just stop for today.”

Well, at least Grantaire didn’t want to turn around and go back to New York anymore. Enjolras didn’t want to think of the empty apartment that would be waiting for him there. Combeferre had left for home around the same time Enjolras had, probably glad that he didn’t have to deal with him anymore. Combeferre had found him slumped on the floor next to the door, that was as far as he’d made it before he’d started crying and lost all will to move ever again.

He wasn’t sure if Combeferre had ever seen him cry, but if he’d freaked his friend out, he’d hid it well. Combeferre had only gathered him into his arms and had held him tightly until Enjolras had managed to choke out what had happened. Combeferre had had a rough couple of months as well and maybe Enjolras hadn’t been there for him enough, but Combeferre always kept a brave face, which was something Enjolras admired very much.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire said, his hand curling around Enjolras’ thigh. “Take the next exit.”

“Fine,” Enjolras snapped.

“We’ll keep going tomorrow,” Grantaire promised.

Enjolras nodded, then Grantaire’s hand was gone. He couldn’t help but think that a few months ago he would have kept it there.

Grantaire was visibly relieved when Enjolras did take the next exit. The motel there didn’t actually look too bad, but they obviously weren’t the first ones who’d given up on going any further today. The whole parking lot was full of cars, but the vacancy sign was still flashing at them in bright pink.

“Good call, fellows,” they were greeted by a middle aged man, “weather’s real nasty tonight. ‘m afraid I don’t have a lot to choose from anymore, can’t give you the President’s Suite.”

“We’ll take whatever you have,” Grantaire said and threw his credit card onto the counter.

Enjolras was about to protest, but he knew Grantaire would never let him pay for the whole trip, so he might as well keep quiet.

They were handed a key and slumped off to their room. It was surprisingly tidy, they’d seen a lot worse last summer, but the beds weren’t exactly what Enjolras had had in mind. “Twin beds? Really?”

Grantaire’s face was carefully blank when he threw his backpack onto one of the beds and sat on it, bouncing up and down twice before he let himself fall back against the pillows. “It’ll do,” he mumbled.

Enjolras perched himself on the edge of his own bed, watching Grantaire, who was looking back at him with tired eyes. He wanted nothing more than to lie down next to him and fall asleep in his arms, but it didn’t seem very likely to happen. He wouldn’t ask.

He kicked off his shoes, about to lie back and go straight to sleep, not caring that he was fully clothed and that the lights were still on. He was tired, not in the usual way, it wasn’t a tiredness he could battle with caffeine, he felt weary and wished he could just vanish from the face of the earth for a while. He closed his eyes, listening for Grantaire, who was shifting on his bed.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire said firmly.

Enjolras’ eyes fluttered open. “Hm?”

“Get over here,” Grantaire mumbled, patting on his mattress, beckoning him to join him.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want to push him, because Grantaire had told him he needed space only one day ago, then again, it was probably way too late for that anyway.

Grantaire rolled his eyes and hopped off his bed, only to lie right back down on Enjolras’, tugging him close to his chest, so Enjolras ended up with his head tucked under Grantaire’s chin. It felt good to be here in this motel, cradled in Grantaire’s arms, with his hands running through his hair. It was right where he belonged.

“It’s really unfair, you know,” Grantaire muttered into his hair. His hand trailed down his back and came to rest on the patch of skin where Enjolras’ shirt had ridden up.

“What is?” Enjolras asked, smiling when Grantaire shivered as his breath ghosted against his neck.

Grantaire’s hand snuck lower, into his boxers, where it stilled again. “You are,” Grantaire said lightly, “it’s really hard to stay mad at you.”

Enjolras felt Grantaire nuzzle his hair. “I’m glad,” he whispered and tilted his head so he could plant a careful kiss on Grantaire’s jawbone. They fell silent and for once Enjolras knew for sure that now wasn’t a good time for talking, but there was a question he needed to ask, something that had kept him up all night.

Grantaire seemed to have noticed that there was something on his mind, because he nudged him. “Tell me,” he said.

“Can I ask you something?” He probably wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Yes, of course,” Grantaire said warily.

Enjolras sat up, smiling at the displeased sound Grantaire made. “Yesterday you said… you said you wished we’d never… you’d never gotten in my car.” Of all the things Grantaire had ever said to him, this had been the one that had hurt him the most. He just wanted him to say that it wasn’t true, that he’d been angry and that he hadn’t actually meant it. “Did you mean it?”

Grantaire wasn’t looking at him, he was staring down at his hands. “Honestly?”

Enjolras nodded. “Yeah, honestly…” It was too late to change his mind now, he’d asked, he’d have to deal with the answer, whatever it might be.

“Yesterday I meant it,” Grantaire said quietly, eyes still cast down. “I shouldn’t have gone with you, not then and not today. Because soon enough you’re going to realize that you can have someone so much better than me, someone who isn’t fucking broken, someone who cares about the things you care about. Sooner or later you’re going to leave me.”

Enjolras couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Grantaire couldn’t actually think that. “I don’t want anyone else.” Sure, Grantaire didn’t always make it easy for him, he probably didn’t make it easy for Grantaire either, but he was sure that they could make this work, they _had_ to make it work.

Grantaire sighed deeply. “But you-”

“No,” Enjolras interrupted and wrapped himself around Grantaire, who let out a breathless huff when Enjolras pinned him down on the bed. “You don’t get to decide what I want,” Enjolras said firmly. “And unless you want me to leave you,” Enjolras whispered against Grantaire’s cheek, “I’m not going anywhere. Alright?”

“Okay,” Grantaire said quietly.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“Okay,” Grantaire said again, chuckling when their lips met.

Enjolras kissed him fiercely and he could feel Grantaire’s hand wandering under his shirt. He sucked at Grantaire’s bottom lip between kisses, nibbled lightly until Grantaire moaned and his nails dug into Enjolras’ skin.

“Up,” Grantaire mumbled against his lips and pushed Enjolras in an upright position, so he could yank his shirt off, Enjolras’ own following suit. Grantaire slid off the bed, wiggling out of his jeans, rummaged in his backpack, then returned to Enjolras with a bottle of lube. “See, I wasn’t sure what exactly was going to happen, so I figured I better come prepared.”

“Good thinking,” Enjolras mumbled when Grantaire straddled his hips, recognizing the pair of boxer briefs he was wearing as one of his own.

Grantaire bent down to kiss him again, slowly, drawing it out, rutting against Enjolras’ hips occasionally, drawing moans from his as he did. When he tried to flip them over, Grantaire must have been a little too enthusiastic, because he landed on the floor with a pained groan. “Fucking twin beds,” he hissed, but smiled up at Enjolras only a few seconds later. Still on the floor, he tugged off his briefs, eyes on Enjolras all the while.

“You want me to come down there,” Enjolras stated. They’d have carpet burn everywhere in the morning.

Grantaire nodded and started stroking himself, grinning smugly. “I can go on without you, though,” he said, licking his lips.

Enjolras scrambled off the bed quickly, grabbing for the lube, quickly yanked the rest of his clothes off and settled between Grantaire’s legs. He batted his hand away and took Grantaire’s cock into his mouth, licking and sucking as Grantaire’s moans grew louder. “Fuck, Enjolras…” Grantaire’s hand found its way into Enjolras’ hair, tugging hard enough to hurt. “Enjolras, please…” He loved Grantaire when he was like this. “Oh god, please fuck me.”

At first Enjolras thought Grantaire was only babbling, like he always did, it took another most insistent tug at his curls and another moaned _Enjolras_ for him to realize that Grantaire might have actually meant it. He pulled off and looked down at Grantaire, who looked absolutely wrecked already. Enjolras kissed the inside of his thigh. “You really want me to…?”

They’d never done this, not together, and it wasn’t like Enjolras didn’t want to, it just hadn’t been a top priority for him, he’d liked the way things were between them, he had never felt the need to change anything.

“I do,” Grantaire said reverently, “I really do, only if you want to, though.”

“Down here?” Enjolras inquired. His knees were already starting to hurt, but the thought of taking Grantaire right here on the floor somewhat clouded his mind, he’d be okay with anything Grantaire wanted right now.

“Why not,” Grantaire said, smirking.

Enjolras took his time with preparing him, even though Grantaire insisted that he was ready, pushing down on his fingers impatiently. It was mostly just to buy time, because Enjolras actually felt a little nervous. He’d never had a problem with trying new things, he’d always managed to adjust to situations when something unexpected had come up, but this was Grantaire, things were different with him, and Enjolras wanted this to be exactly as good for him as it was for Enjolras when their roles were reversed.

“ _Enjolras_ ,” Grantaire whined, fingers scratching against the carpet to find purchase.

Enjolras curled his fingers. “Yes?” he asked, miraculously sounding a lot calmer than he felt.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” Grantaire said breathlessly. “Just get on with it.”

Enjolras obliged, but kept his initial thrusts shallow. Grantaire was tight around him and he was pretty sure that this was going to be a fairly short endeavor if he didn’t manage to get a grip on himself. He bent down to kiss Grantaire. “You okay?”

“Fine… I’m fine,” Grantaire muttered, kissing Enjolras back, his teeth grazing over Enjolras’ lip.

Grantaire hooked his legs around Enjolras, probably to get him to move again. It took Enjolras a while to find a rhythm, but Grantaire didn’t seem to mind that he was a bit clumsy, or maybe he didn’t even realize, he was just swearing under his breath, holding Enjolras close to him, his fingers leaving marks on his skin. Enjolras almost forgot that he was nervous, he felt incredible, _Grantaire_ felt incredible.

Enjolras started stroking Grantaire’s dick in time with his thrusts until Grantaire came with Enjolras’ name on his lips, Enjolras, too, came seconds later with a loud moan. He allowed himself to collapse on top Grantaire for a bit, feeling unable to move and completely fucked out, enjoying the feeling of Grantaire’s fingers running through his hair, listening to Grantaire’s heartbeat slow down gradually. Grantaire didn’t stir, save for when he slung an arm around Enjolras.

“That was…” Grantaire started, then sighed. “We should do that again.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Enjolras mumbled against Grantaire’s sweaty skin. It was getting a little chilly after a while and the floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, so Enjolras moved to get up. “You don’t want to sleep down here, too, do you?”

“Nah,” Grantaire said and followed his example. He used his discarded shirt to clean both of them up as best as he could, then he pulled Enjolras into one of the small beds with him. “If you throw me out of bed, I won’t buy you breakfast tomorrow morning,” he mumbled.

Enjolras smiled and pulled him closer. “I’d never.”


	2. Chapter 2

Grantaire could feel Enjolras stir next to him. Fingers were brushing over his skin, very gently running through his curls, lingering there for a bit, but then Enjolras was starting to withdraw slowly, probably trying not to wake up Grantaire.

 “Where are you going?” Grantaire mumbled, moving to keep Enjolras in place.

“Nowhere.” Enjolras chuckled and nuzzled at his neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Grantaire said, rubbing his eyes. He turned over, which proved somewhat difficult in the small bed. “What’s for breakfast?”

“I don’t know, I thought we could get pancakes,” Enjolras said, breath hitching when Grantaire kissed along the line of his jaw. “Or waffles,” Enjolras continued. Grantaire nibbled at his collarbone with a hum. “Or… something else.”

“Sounds good to me,” Grantaire whispered. “I vote pancakes.”

“And bacon,” Enjolras muttered into his hair. “A lot of bacon.”

“Shower first, though. Both of us. At the same time.”

Enjolras laughed quietly. “Excellent idea.”

“Oh, by the way,” Grantaire said and kissed the corner of Enjolras’ mouth. “Merry Christmas.”

* * *

“Okay, so how are we going to do this?” Grantaire asked. They’d got mediocre waffles instead of pancakes, the bacon had been more than just a little disappointing, really, who would have thought that you can do something wrong when making bacon.

Enjolras sniffed at his coffee and made a face. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not snowing anymore and the roads are pretty clear, I guess if we drive for most of the day, we could make it pretty far.” He took a bite of a leftover piece of bacon, looking utterly miserable. “If you still want to go.”

“Of course I do,” Grantaire said and took Enjolras’ hand.

“I know that I shouldn’t have come barging into your apartment like that,” Enjolras said, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “You said you wanted space and I didn’t listen and I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, though, I’m glad you came to get me,” Grantaire mumbled. If Enjolras hadn’t come, he’d be all alone right now, sitting in his apartment, eating some ready-made meal, which would most likely be better than what they’d gotten at this godforsaken diner, but anyway, he was glad Enjolras was here, the rest didn’t matter. “I get to spend Christmas with you that way.”

“Wonderful Christmas, with burnt bacon and really weird tasting coffee,” Enjolras grumbled.

“You’re doing the thing,” Grantaire said, narrowing his eyes. “Stop doing the thing.”

“What thing?” Enjolras asked, pouting, but looking entirely too adorable.

“You know, the thing where you’re being really grumpy, even though there’s nothing to be grumpy about.”

Enjolras pursed his lips. “I’m not-”

“Here,” Grantaire pushed his plate with the rest of his waffles over to him. “Now… we’re going south, we should totally make a stop in DC, I want to-”

“If that sentence ends with _steal the Declaration of Independence_ , you can walk the rest of the way,” Enjolras cut it.

“You ruined my joke, asshole,” Grantaire said and stuck his tongue out at him.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t even funny.”

“Oh please, I’m hilarious,” Grantaire said dramatically.

“You have your moments,” Enjolras admitted and started eating the rest of Grantaire’s waffles. “Anyway, I want to go further than DC. Maybe we can make a stop there on our way back?”

“Sounds good to me,” Grantaire said, nodding. He fell silent then, wondering if they’d manage when they got back, if things would be different. He bit his lip. Two weeks away from home wouldn’t fix them, he knew that. “Enjolras,” he started, his foot brushing against Enjolras’ under the table.

Enjolras looked up, smiling faintly, but didn’t say anything. Grantaire thought about a cheap Italian restaurant in St. Louis, they’d been arguing, only he hardly remembered what it had been about, he just knew that he’d managed to shut Enjolras up like this back then.  

“We still need to talk about a couple of things,” Grantaire said. “Not today,” he added, when Enjolras’ expression went from moderately happy to tormented in less than two seconds. “Let’s just go.”

They paid, Enjolras left a more than generous tip, then they were on the road again. Grantaire spent most of the drive singing along to songs on the radio, like he always did, and Enjolras seemed to enjoy it, although he never joined in with Grantaire.

They stopped at a gas station a while later, bought some snacks, but didn’t lose any time otherwise. They made short stops along the way a couple of times, but it was already dark when Enjolras sighed and pulled off the interstate. “Sorry, but six hours of driving are enough.”

“It’s okay, let’s just spend the night in...” Grantaire peered out the window. “Rural Virginia?”

Enjolras huffed. “There should be a motel somewhere around here.”

“You mean the one down the road with the big sign that says _no vacancy_?” Grantaire asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Enjolras parked the car at the side of the road, glaring at the motel, as if he could somehow make the big red _no_ disappear that way. “Give me a second,” he said and grabbed his phone.

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Grantaire asked slowly.

Enjolras shrugged. “It looks nice, don’t you think?”

“It looks extremely nice,” Grantaire said, staring at the idyllic country house, decorated with Christmas lights and caked in snow, “it looks a bit too nice, actually, maybe it’s owned by an old lady who’s going to murder us in our sleep.”

“Oh please,” Enjolras mumbled and took their bags out of the trunk. “It’s just for one night.”

They’d had a couple of choices, but the bed and breakfast inn they were now standing in front of had been the closest of all, and since it had started snowing again they’d decided to give it a try because they didn’t want to go much further.

Ironically, they were really greeted by an elderly woman who was sitting behind the front desk, knitting, a black and white cat curled up at her feet. Grantaire had never felt more out of place in his entire life.

“Merry Christmas, you two,” she said, smiling sweetly. “One or two rooms for you?” she asked casually as she got up from her chair.

“Only one actually,” Enjolras said quickly. Grantaire was almost sure that the color on his cheeks wasn’t because of the cold.

“Of course.” Never ceasing to smile, she turned around, grabbed a key from a huge board behind her and placed it on the counter. Grantaire noticed that there were only few keys missing. “If you two are hungry, the kitchen will be open for about another two hours, we also have Christmas cookies and coffee if that’s more to your liking, and be sure to let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

While Enjolras took care of checking in, Grantaire wandered around the foyer, looked at the old pictures all over the walls, and eventually found another cat on a huge armchair in the corner. He was so busy wiggling his fingers at it, cooing softly, grinning when the cat tried to catch his fingers, that he didn’t even notice that Enjolras had snuck up behind him.

Grantaire only realized when Enjolras snorted. “Shut up, I’m making a friend,” Grantaire grumbled.

“Right,” Enjolras said, “well, I’m going to go upstairs, maybe you want to join me when you’re done making friends.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes and followed Enjolras, smiling at the old lady, who’d gone back to her knitting, on their way to the stairs. There was a fluffy carpet on the floor, Christmas decorations littered the walls.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Grantaire said when Enjolras unlocked the door to their room.

“Charming,” Enjolras mumbled, staring at the flowery wallpaper, the four-poster with the flowery sheets and the massive painting of a vase of flowers above a small wooden desk.

“Can you overdose on flower patterns?” Grantaire asked and shut the door. He wrapped his arms around Enjolras from behind, kissing the back of his neck. “Do you want to go back down to eat something or…” His hand slid down Enjolras’ shirt and under the hem of his jeans. “You know, the bed looks really comfortable.”

Enjolras took a deep breath and caught Grantaire’s wrist in his hand. “Dinner first,” he mumbled.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

* * *

“Enjolras, just stop moving for a second,” Grantaire said. He had found paper and a pen in the drawers of the desk he was now sitting on top of, drawing Enjolras, who was still in bed, curls in disarray, eyes closed, only sparsely covered by the bedsheets. “Can you move the sheets?”

“You just told me not to move,” Enjolras mumbled. He sounded like he was half asleep.

“Please,” Grantaire said impatiently. He was only wearing his boxers and Enjolras’ shirt and his feet were starting to get a little cold.

Enjolras grabbed the sheet and cracked an eye open. “Where do you want me to move it?”

Grantaire took a bite of one of the cookies the owner of the inn had given them. He grinned at Enjolras. “Away.”

“I don’t think so,” Enjolras said firmly.

Grantaire sighed. Of course he could draw the rest from memory, but that wouldn’t be the same. “Maybe some other time?” he asked. He’d drawn Enjolras many times, sadly he’d been wearing clothes most of the time.

Enjolras smiled and turned over to lie on his stomach. “Maybe,” he muttered and pulled the sheets up a bit. “Get back here, it's getting cold.”

Grantaire chuckled and tried to finish his drawing, even though he’d rather just run straight back to Enjolras. “In a minute.”

“Remember when I said we should spend a lot of time in bed, I meant both of us, not just me,” Enjolras grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillows.

“Okay, okay,” Grantaire mumbled and put the notepad on the table. He crawled back into bed, not bothering to slip under the covers, just let himself fall straight on top of Enjolras, who let out a huff of breath. “Here I am,” Grantaire said cheerfully and planted a kiss on Enjorlas’ shoulder.

Enjolras hummed when Grantaire started kissing every inch of skin he could reach. “Maybe we could just stay here,” Enjolras whispered, barely audible. “It’s nice here, this bed is nice.”

“But the flowers, Enjolras,” Grantaire mumbled against his skin. “When you look at them for too long it looks like they’re starting to move, did you notice?”

“No, I didn’t, I was looking at you mostly,” Enjolras said with a sigh.

“Oh, you,” Grantaire said, laughing quietly.

“I like looking at you.” He was starting to slur the words a little, he was probably starting to fall asleep.

Grantaire couldn’t help but smile stupidly. “Enjolras,” he whispered, “I…” He blinked, God, why couldn’t he just say it? He ran his fingers though Enjolras’ hair instead, rolled off of him and joined him under the covers.

“I know,” Enjolras sighed.

Maybe that was enough for now.


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay, so that idea you had about just staying here…” Grantaire whispered, his eyelids fluttering against Enjolras’ cheek. “I think I sort of like it. Because this bed is basically heaven and, well, you’re here too, that’s nice, I suppose.”

Enjolras snorted. He still very much liked the idea as well, even though he’d voiced it when he’d been half asleep. “I thought you didn’t like the hypnotizing flowers?”

“I guess I’d be fine for another night.” Grantaire gave him a quick kiss. “We could sit by the fire… and remember how good dinner was last night, and we have a bathtub, I’m not leaving until we’ve-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, you really want to stay.”

Grantaire sat up, looking down at him, grinning broadly. “I really do.”

“Fine, one condition, though,” Enjolras said. “We postpone the talking until we leave here.” He knew this really wasn’t the right way to deal with this, and he knew that some kind of argument was coming, but he really want to push it as far away as possible.

“Ah, the talking,” Grantaire muttered, nodding. “Well, we don’t want that nice old lady to clean my blood off her horrid wallpaper if you decide to kill me.” He scratched his head. “I’m totally fine with that condition.”

“Can I also get you to shave?” Enjolras asked and tugged Grantaire back down into his arms.

 “What? You don’t like my homeless person look?” Grantaire laughed. “I’m incredibly lazy, so that’s probably not going to happen.”

“It was worth a try,” Enjolras said and ruffled Grantaire’s curls. “Breakfast?”

“In a bit,” Grantaire grumbled, “you’re even more comfortable than the bed.”

“I’m glad I make for an adequate pillow.”

“You sure do.”

* * *

“Shit, did we miss breakfast?”

Grantaire had fallen asleep again, and usually Enjolras would have just woke him up, but he’d got a bit sidetracked. He’d never actually watched Grantaire while he was sleeping, mostly because he’d never had the time, because he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open for long enough, or because he’d had to leave in a rush in the morning.

But now he’d had the time and he’d looked, properly looked, and had been trying not to brush his thumb over the little scar on Grantaire’s forehead. He’d never asked him how he’d got that one.

“I think we can still get breakfast if we ask nicely,” Enjolras said, smiling when Grantaire jumped out of bed and started pulling on random clothes he found strewn across the floor.

“Right, because this is heaven on earth.” Grantaire pulled on Enjolras’ sweater, one of the few ones that actually fit him, since Grantaire did have broader shoulders than Enjolras.

Enjolras slowly got out of bed and picked up Grantaire’s striped longsleeve shirt. “If we can’t get breakfast we might have to leave after all.”

“No,” Grantaire said, shaking his head firmly, “we’re not leaving.”

“Not ever?” Enjolras asked with an amused grin.

Grantaire shook his head. “I think we should stay forever.”

“Okay, let’s do that.” Enjolras kissed him on the forehead, grabbed their room key and took Grantaire by the hand to drag him downstairs.

“Are we too late for breakfast?” Grantaire asked the inn’s owner, the most heartbreaking expression on his face.

“And could we maybe stay for another night?”

“Oh, of course, dear. And no, you’re not too late for breakfast,” she said to Grantaire, waving over at the dining room. “Just sit down, Amanda will make you whatever you like.”

Grantaire darted off, so all Enjolras could do was follow. Amanda made them the most delicious breakfast they’d ever had, they both agreed, which made Enjolras want to leave even less.

“Do you want to go for a walk later on?” Enjolras asked, watching Grantaire inspect the big bookshelf next to the fireplace. “Or do you want to stay in and read?”

“Oh yeah, we should build a snowman,” Grantaire said, tearing his eyes off the books. “And later we can have hot chocolate by the fireplace and then…” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Then we can try out the bathtub.”

“I’m not sure if your fascination with that bathtub is worrying or endearing.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Shut up, let’s just go.”

Enjolras enjoyed walking around the woods behind the inn immensely, the air was crisp and the snow crunched under their feet, Grantaire hummed Christmas songs under his breath and Enjolras firmly held on to his hand as they made their way down the snowy paths. Neither of them wanted to break the quiet by talking until the hotel was in sight again.

“So, how about that snowman?” Grantaire let go of his hand and grabbed a handful of snow when they’d reached the clearing behind the inn. “Or a snowball fight?” he asked and threw it at Enjolras, who ducked and returned the attack with an even bigger snowball.

Enjolras quickly ran to hide behind a tree, which worked out for him quite well until Grantaire snuck up on him and smashed a giant snowball on the back of his head. Enjolras nearly screamed when he felt the snow slide down into his neck and into his jacket. Before he could react, though, Grantaire had already tackled him to the ground.

“I changed my mind,” Grantaire mumbled and kissed Enjolras’ nose. “We should make snow angels.”

Enjolras could already feel the snow soaking through his jeans. “I think we should get off the ground before we get pneumonia.” Enjolras’ feet were cold, his fingers didn’t feel like they were part of his body anymore and his ears might have already fallen off without him even realizing.

Grantaire rolled off him and started moving his arms, shoveling snow into Enjolras’ face with a broad grin on his face. “I love snow,” Grantaire whispered, staring up at the grey sky. He was perfectly still and Enjolras almost felt bad for disturbing the peace, but he was getting decidedly too cold and just wanted to go back inside cuddle up next to Grantaire in their bed.

“I’m honestly more of a summer person,” Enjolras muttered and got up. He held his hand out to Grantaire, who was still lying amidst his snow angel.

Grantaire let him pull him to his feet and was laughing all the way back to the inn, because Enjolras grew grumpier with every step. He pretty much felt like a walking icicle and he said as much to Grantaire, who giggled and tugged his beanie over Enjolras head. “You should have brought a hat.”

“Tell me about it,” Enjolras grumbled. At least it wasn’t much farther to the inn.

When they got there, they rushed up the stairs, only waving at the lady behind the counter, who was busy knitting, and stumbled into their room. Enjolras kicked off his wet shoes and shrugged off his jacket, his teeth clattering, and Grantaire pulled him into a hug, which didn’t help at all because Grantaire was just as cold and wet as he was. He shivered and huddled closer, although that didn’t do any good at all.

“Wait here,” Grantaire muttered and vanished into the bathroom. It didn’t even take a minute until Enjolras heard the water running. He quickly stripped off the rest of his uncomfortably wet clothes and joined Grantaire in the bathroom when he heard him call his name.

Grantaire was already sitting in the half-full tub, surrounded by bubbles. “Enjolras,” Grantaire said to him as he climbed into the hot water, “one day we should get a bathtub.”

Enjolras leaned back so he could rest his hand against Grantaire’s chest, not sure what to say because he didn’t know if _we_ meant one of them or the two of them together. “Yeah, we should,” he said eventually, trying not to dwell on the idea of them moving in together one day, but failing miserably. “We should also get a bed like that one,” he added. He could imagine the lazy mornings, rainy Saturday afternoons spent in bed, yes, he’d like that, he’d like that very much.

“No flowers though,” Grantaire mumbled as he moved to turn off the water. He wrapped his arms around Enjolras. “No wallpapers with flowers, no curtains with flowers and no bedsheets with flowers.”

Enjolras smiled when Grantaire started kissing down his neck. “Agreed,” he whispered and leaned into the touch.

Grantaire hummed against his skin, then Enjolras could feel him nosing up his neck and nuzzle his hair. He sighed, wondering if he should ask, because they’d said no talking, not about serious matters, not about all the things they really needed to talk about, but this was different. “Do you really want that?” He tilted his head so he could press a kiss to Grantaire’s stubbly jaw.

Grantaire froze. He probably shouldn’t have asked, then.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t… that was stupid.” Enjolras nudged Grantaire with his nose. “Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“No, I… I think I do. Maybe. I don’t know. Do you?”

_Yes_ was the first thing he wanted to say, but really, did he know for sure? It would be a big step to take, to agree to try this, because he’d lived with Combeferre for the last couple of years and it had been so easy. Things weren’t easy with Grantaire, but Enjolras had always loved a challenge, he’d never been one to choose the easy way out.

They’d fight and they’d hate each other sometimes and there’d be days when they’d both rather give up and back out and run away. But Enjolras was willing to try, he wanted the arguments and the fights if that meant that he got to be with Grantaire at the end of the day.

And he wanted to tell Grantaire that, but he’d never been good with words, so he simply settled for, “I do.”

“Maybe we should add that to the long list of things we need to talk about,” Grantaire mumbled and brought up one of Enjolras hands to kiss it.

Enjolras nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

They lingered in the tub until the water was lukewarm, then Enjolras wrapped Grantaire in a towel, made a point in kissing every part of him that he could reach, and later they went back downstairs to have dinner and  a cup of hot chocolate by the fireplace.

Grantaire had picked a book from the shelf, Enjolras was reading yesterday’s newspaper, and a comfortable silence stretched out between them all evening.


	4. Chapter 4

“So, you wanted to talk.”

Grantaire wondered if he should keep his eyes closed and pretend that he was sleeping. The talking wouldn’t go well and he didn’t feel like he was ready for this, not even remotely, but maybe he would never be.

They’d left their talk-free zone this morning, both of them not exactly eager to leave. Grantaire had somehow gotten quite used to all the flowers and the cats and the cozy atmosphere, and deep down he never ever wanted to go anywhere else. Everything had worked so well, they hadn’t argued a single time and Grantaire was pretty sure that he’d never felt this comfortable with anyone else in his entire life.

He’d woken up before Enjolras, very early in the morning, and he hadn’t been sure why, but he hadn’t managed to go back to sleep, so he’d drawn a still fast asleep Enjolras, had sat down at the end of the bed, going over past conversations in his head, had thought about all the things he’d never said, things he should have said, if he was honest with himself, and had eventually snuggled back against Enjolras, listening to his quiet breathing that had lulled him back to sleep.

They’d had another delicious breakfast, Grantaire had deliberately taken his time eating his pancakes, and even though Enjolras hadn’t uttered a word of complaint Grantaire had been sure that he could tell that he was stalling.

 Now they were back on the Interstate and they’d spent the last hour in silence. Grantaire hadn’t even felt like turning on the radio.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras said quietly. “I know you’re not actually asleep.”

His eyes fluttered open. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Well, you said we needed to talk,” Enjolras said sourly.

“We do,” Grantaire confirmed.

Grantaire could hear Enjolras huff impatiently. “So?” Enjolras inquired, eyes fixed on the road.

“You’re driving. And although it might not seem like it at times, but I actually believe I’m too young to die.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that you’re trying to find excuses _not_ to talk.”

Grantaire shrugged. “Can you blame me?”

“Not really,” Enjolras answered, his tone a lot gentler than before. “But I think you’re right, there really are things we need to-”

“I know,” Grantaire cut in. “I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Well, neither do I.”

Grantaire bit his lip. He was trying to think about where to start, but his mind was unhelpfully blank.

“I suppose it can wait until tonight,” Enjolras mumbled before Grantaire could say anything.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he agreed. Grantaire took a deep breath, trying to calm down. They wanted to solve their problems, not create new ones, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was exactly what was going to happen.

They didn’t stop for lunch until they’d passed Knoxville. Grantaire didn’t miss the worried glances Enjolras shot him all the while, because Grantaire only picked at his food. He didn’t really feel like he could keep anything down all of a sudden, he felt anxious, he felt like downing a bottle of whiskey, and he most certainly did not feel like talking.

He somehow managed to hide his shaking hands, Enjolras was busy paying attention to traffic, or at least he thought so until Enjolras’ hand closed around his, squeezing gently.

Grantaire smiled and reached out to turn on the radio to distract himself, finding a classic rock station in no time. By the time he’d started singing along to Hells Bells Enjolras was smiling as well, glancing at him every now and then and at some point Grantaire thought he might have caught Enjolras humming along, too.

They made it far that day, passed the border to Alabama, had a somewhat unsatisfying dinner, and checked into the next best motel they could find.

It wasn’t until they’d curled up on their bed, Enjolras’ arms wrapped around Grantaire, his head buried in the crook of his neck, that Grantaire sighed and nudged Enjolras. “Let’s talk.”

Enjolras remained where he was, only shifted slightly and kissed Grantaire’s neck. “Okay,” he whispered. “Talk.”

Grantaire wound his fingers in Enjolras’ hair before he started speaking. “Do you really want to be with me?” He’d thought about different ways of phrasing this questions, how to voice the doubt that was nagging at him all the time, no matter how caring Enjolras was, no matter how loving his caresses were. It wasn’t his fault, this was all Grantaire, it was a trick of his mind that made him feel unwanted at the worst of times. Grantaire had trouble believing someone would care about him at all, let alone love him.

“What?” Enjolras asked as he sat up, his blue eyes wide. “Of course I do. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Grantaire felt stupid immediately. “I know,” he muttered. “I just… I realize your work is important to you, and I admire how hard you work for the things you believe in, but sometimes I feel like… I don’t know, like you don’t really want me there?”

Enjolras blinked at him. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true. Of course I want you around.”

“You just don’t want me to show up at your meetings, you don’t want me to be around when you do your work, it’s like you only want me to be part of half of your life.”

“Maybe that’s because you never have a single positive thing to say about what I do,” Enjolras said, his voice carefully steady. “Have you considered that?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Grantaire knew he sounded irrationally angry. He didn’t care. “Maybe you should take some responsibility instead of blaming me, how about that?”

“Well, it’s funny, because it somehow sounds like _you_ are the one who doesn’t want to take any responsibility,” Enjolras hissed. He was vicious when he was angry, and often he said things he didn’t mean, but it was hard for Grantaire to tell when he did and when he didn’t. “I don’t want you to march alongside me at demonstrations, but it would be incredibly helpful if you didn’t ridicule everything I stand for.”

“Well, I’m sorry for not living up to your expectations,” Grantaire snapped. “I’m sorry I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He could feel tears stinging in his eyes, damn it, he couldn’t just start crying. If he couldn’t even make it through an unpleasant conversation, how could he possibly handle being with Enjolras day after day, how could he keep it together then? It had all sounded quite simple, the idea of moving in together one day, he loved it, and he wanted it, but he was scared. People changed their minds. Enjolras would change his mind about Grantaire. In fact, it seemed like he already had.

He couldn’t look at Enjolras. He couldn’t be here anymore and he got up without even thinking about it.

“Grantaire, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Just leave me alone,” Grantaire snapped as he struggled into his shoes. He hardly heard Enjolras calling his name as he almost ran out the door.

It wasn’t the best course of action to just run away from his problems, Grantaire was well aware of that,  but he couldn’t have spent another minute in that room with Enjolras. He took a couple of deep breaths, blindly walking down the road, past a roadside diner, past another motel, until he reached a gas station.

Grantaire turned around, relieved that Enjolras hadn’t followed him, then he walked into the gas station. There wasn’t much to choose from and he spent a little too much time considering the liquor shelf, but eventually reached for a chocolate bar. He knew he’d have to go back to Enjolras eventually, and he wasn’t going to do _that_ to him. Enjolras deserved so much better.

He needed to tell him, though. Needed to tell him that it was likely to happen someday, that he would fuck up, that one day he wouldn’t just buy a bottle of wine, but that he’d also open it and drink until he was a sobbing mess on the floor. And he needed to know if Enjolras was willing to stick around even if he did.  

Grantaire shivered when he stepped back outside. It wasn’t even that cold, but there was a chill in the air. It helped clear his head to some extent and he soon started walking back towards the hotel, where he found Enjolras sitting on the steps in front of the door to their room.

He jumped up, walked towards him and pulled him into a tight hug. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, fingers tightening in the fabric of Grantaire’s shirt. “Honestly, I tried to give you space, but I was just about to go after you.”

Grantaire hugged him back. He did nothing to stop his tears from falling.

“Promise,” Enjolras whispered, his arms tightening around Grantaire. “Promise you will never do that again.”

“Okay, okay, I promise,” Grantaire choked out, clinging to Enjolras like his life depended on it. He wanted to apologize, he owed Enjolras that much, but he didn’t trust his voice right now.

“We’re doing this all wrong,” Enjolras said as he tugged him back inside. “We need to sort this out, because I want to be with you and I don’t ever want you to think that I don’t, you know I didn’t mean what I said.” Enjolras pushed him onto the bed and sat down next to him. “I’m not blaming you for anything, it’s just that this whole relationship thing is pretty new to me, and as I said earlier, I don’t want to fuck this up, so please tell me what I can do to make this work.”

Grantaire stared down at the incredibly ugly carpet for a long minute, then he reached for Enjolras’ hand. “I have issues,” he said quietly. “I told you.”

Enjolras remained quiet, waiting for him to keep talking.

“I might… You know, I’m fine most of the time. But sometimes I just feel like… giving up.” Grantaire shrugged. He’d always struggled with saying these things out loud. It had taken months to tell Cosette and she’d been nothing but supportive, but she didn’t have to deal with him as much as Enjolras had to.

“Let’s make a deal,” Enjolras said firmly. “Whenever you feel like that, you tell me. And we’re going to figure it out together. I realize I probably won’t be able to help you, but at least I can be there for you.”

Grantaire nodded. It wasn’t going to be that easy, but he felt like it wasn’t the best idea to mention that now, mainly because he felt like crying again, only for a completely different reason. “I think that was enough talking for one day,” Grantaire mumbled. He felt exhausted, and even though this conversation sure as hell wasn’t over, at least it seemed they might actually be able to work this out.

Enjolras didn’t answer, just pressed a kiss to his forehead, and if he held him a little tighter than usual that night, well, Grantaire wouldn’t complain.


	5. Chapter 5

The clock on the nightstand told Enjolras that it was 1:46 am. Grantaire had fallen asleep hours ago and was blissfully unaware of Enjolras’ state of mind. He’d been trying to go to sleep for ages, had tried thinking of nothing, had tried counting sheep, had tried listening to Grantaire’s soft snoring, but he was still wide awake, worrying.

Enjolras was certain that he’d never been as scared in his life as when Grantaire had just walked out of their motel room. He’d known that he needed to give Grantaire a couple of minutes to calm down, he’d also needed to give _himself_ a couple of minutes to calm down, and so he would.

He’d expected Grantaire to sit right outside the door, probably still pouting, as he always did after a fight until he eventually relented and they both apologized. When he’d opened the door, however, he’d realized that Grantaire was gone. Enjolras had to try very hard not to panic, because Grantaire hadn’t taken his phone and there was no way for Enjolras to figure out where he’d gone. He could have been anywhere. Maybe he was just taking a stroll to clear his head or maybe he’d gone and found a bus station to go back home, although Enjolras hadn’t been sure if Grantaire would have had enough money to actually get back to New York.

Enjolras had sat on the steps, knowing there was nothing he could do except wait for him to come back, and with every passing minute that Grantaire hadn’t returned Enjolras had grown more and more anxious. Maybe he’d gone too far in saying what he’d said. It was a problem of his, he often said things he hadn’t thought through, simply because he was angry and upset, and he always came to regret it eventually. Apparently this time it hadn’t been soon enough.

Enjolras sighed and carefully untangled himself from Grantaire, knowing there was no way he’d be able to go to sleep, because he was still too worked up about what had happened. Grantaire had come back and he’d been so relieved, and they’d made an attempt at talking, but it hadn’t actually helped to make Enjolras feel less worried.

He knew about Grantaire’s problems, and although Enjolras knew that he’d never truly understand what he was going through, he’d promised himself that he’d do his very best to be supportive and he’d been sure that Grantaire knew that.

Enjolras briefly considered getting his phone to call Combeferre, but there was no need to worry his friend, and he also didn’t want to go too far away from Grantaire. He knew it was stupid to think that he’d just disappear in the dead of the night, especially after he’d promised a hundred times that he’d never just take off like that again, but Enjolras was still willing to sacrifice a good night’s sleep, just to be certain.

Grantaire nuzzled into the pillow that Enjolras had abandoned and Enjolras’ heart fluttered strangely in his chest. He didn’t know why it affected him so much, Grantaire doing these things – things a lot of people did, like breathing in the scent of his coffee and smiling before he took the first sip, and checking Enjolras’ reactions every time they watched a movie Grantaire liked, or leaving post-it notes all over Enjolras’ textbooks – but they never failed to make him smile.

He realized his feelings for Grantaire made him vulnerable, in a way. It was exactly why he hadn’t wasted much thought on relationships in the past, but Combeferre had once told him that was exactly what he needed – someone to remind him that he was human and that he wasn’t actually infallible. Obviously, Combeferre had put it a lot more diplomatically.

Grantaire was right much too often when he criticized Enjolras’ ideas and Enjolras realized that, it was just that Grantaire had a very harsh and straightforward way of pointing out the faults and flaws in his thinking. And that was why Enjolras oftentimes ended up arguing with him instead of simply discussing things.

Grantaire’s fingers curled around the sheets, then let go again, wandered, as if they were searching for Enjolras. It was only seconds before Grantaire’s eyes fluttered open. “Enjolras?”

“I’m here,” Enjolras mumbled and lowered himself back onto the mattress. “Just go back to sleep.”

Grantaire blinked, his eyes needing a little time to adjust to the darkness. “Something wrong?”

“No, I just couldn’t sleep,” Enjolras told him and wrapped an arm around him. “Go back to sleep.”

Grantaire snuggled closer immediately. “’m sorry,” he whispered into Enjolras’ shirt.

“Not your fault,” Enjolras whispered back, keeping Grantaire as close as humanly possible.

 “But it is, isn’t it?” Grantaire sighed. “I am really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Enjolras mumbled and kissed Grantaire’s forehead. He really didn’t want Grantaire to take the blame for this mess, because it was Enjolras’ mess, too.

“It’s really not okay. I was being such an ass, I just keep fucking up, don’t I?” Grantaire eventually inched away from Enjolras again.

Enjolras let him, feeling incredibly helpless. “I was the one who made you walk out that door, and sure, I know it’s both of our faults, somehow, but I wish you’d stop taking all the blame.”

Enjolras could make out Grantaire’s lips twitching. “Are you actually admitting that I’m-”

“I’m not admitting anything,” Enjolras grumbled, which seemed to amuse Grantaire even more. “Now go back to sleep,” he said again.

“Why don’t _you_ go back to sleep?” Grantaire chuckled and threw himself right on top of Enjolras. “Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“What?” Enjolras asked as he shifted Grantaire to the side a little, so he was able to breathe.

“You know, to help you fall asleep. Something like… once upon a time there was a completely misguided art student who thought that hitchhiking all the way to Chicago was a fantastic idea and then he ran into a golden-haired boy who was completely broke and in need of a strong cup of coffee and-”

“I’m not _golden-haired_ ,” Enjolras protested, which made Grantaire laugh against his skin.

“Yes, you totally are,” Grantaire said and pressed a kiss to his throat. “You should see yourself when the sunlight hits your hair, it’s actually _blinding_.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Enjolras muttered. He was glad that the lights were out because he was almost certain that he was blushing, at least going by the fact how hot his face felt all of a sudden, and Grantaire would never let him hear the end of it.

Enjolras wasn’t a vain person, he didn’t spend a lot of time staring at himself in the mirror and he’d never considered himself much to look at. He needed a haircut eighty percent of the time, he’d always felt that he was a bit too skinny, and he was as pale as a ghost, no matter how much time he spent out in the sun, which made the circles under his eyes after long nights spent working look even darker, but somehow Grantaire seemed to think he was some kind of godlike creature.

Grantaire remained quiet for a few seconds. “You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” Enjolras shot back, noticing that he very much sounded like a kindergartener.

“Whatever you say,” Grantaire mumbled and buried his face in the crook of Enjolras’ neck. “Try to sleep in, okay?”

Enjolras’ hand settled in Grantaire’s hair. “I’ll do my best.”

Obviously, Enjolras didn’t sleep in, sometimes he thought it just wasn’t a thing he was capable of doing, but at least he managed not to move until Grantaire woke up, which turned out to be a lot harder than he would have believed. His mind was running in circles all the while.

He almost felt relieved when Grantaire finally woke up, because now he could say all the things he’d been thinking about for the past hour.

“You know, I think we should make a list of the things we need to talk about. Because we just keep getting distracted by bedtime stories and cuddling, and it’s not that I don’t like that, but I don’t think it’s getting us anywhere. And maybe we should make a pact not to… you know, lash out,” Enjolras said as soon as he could feel Grantaire stir. “What do you think?”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire whined.

“What did I do now?” Enjolras inquired gruffly.

“Too early,” Grantaire muttered.

“It’s almost nine.”

“Hm, you’re too coherent.”

“Maybe you should do something about that,” Enjolras mused.

“Right.” Grantaire rolled onto his back, smiling at him lazily. “Maybe you should busy your mouth with something other than talking.”

“So subtle,” Enjolras whispered. He pushed Grantaire’s shirt out of the way so he could leave a trail of kisses across his stomach.

Grantaire hummed thoughtfully. “You were being _subtle_ first,” he said eventually, his fingers settling in Enjolras’ hair, tugging very lightly.

Enjolras was just about to slowly make his way down to the waistband of Grantaire’s boxers when he heard Grantaire’s stomach rumble. “Hungry?”

“Starving, but the prospect of you going down on me actually made me forget all about it,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “But yeah, maybe we could settle for breakfast now and blowjobs later?”

“Definitely,” Enjolras agreed. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty hungry as well.

They ended up having half of the contents of the vending machine outside their room for breakfast, since there wasn’t any other place to go in close proximity of their motel and neither of them wanted to stray too far from their room.

It wasn’t until the afternoon that they managed to get back on the road, both of them in a remarkably good mood.

Enjolras noticed with great satisfaction that Grantaire didn’t seem to want to let go of his hand.


	6. Chapter 6

“Right so the way I see it, we have two options,” Enjolras said, still staring down at his phone. He’d been texting or checking his email or whatever it was that kept him tied to that stupid thing. Grantaire knew it was unreasonable to be jealous of an electronic device, but sometimes he just couldn’t help it. It was the same with Enjolras’ laptop, which had luckily stayed in New York.

Anyway, Grantaire had resisted the urge to take Enjolras’ phone away from him ever since he had abandoned the rest of the sandwich on his plate and taken it out of his pocket. “And those would be…?”

“Well, we passed a motel right before we stopped here, so we either go there…” Enjolras said and finally looked up with a smile that made Grantaire’s stomach flutter.

Grantaire smiled back, realizing that Enjolras had lost track somehow. “Or?” he prompted.

Enjolras cleared his throat. “Or we go down to New Orleans.” He put down his phone. “I just checked, it should be only another two and a half hours,” he explained and nudged Grantaire with his foot. “What do you think?”

Grantaire wasn’t exactly keen on spending more time in the car, he really just wanted to curl up in bed with Enjolras, any bed, anywhere, and preferably right now, but the prospect of actually reaching their destination didn’t seem all that bad either. He was about to answer, when Enjolras started talking again.

“I’d have to call my father’s friend first, to check if there’s a room available for us, but I mean… alternatively we could also find some other place to stay, I just thought it might be nice to-”

Grantaire could sense that Enjolras was nervous for some reason and was about to start babbling, so he interrupted. “Sure, call your dad’s friend.”

Enjolras nodded. “Okay, I’ll do that then.” He grabbed his phone and walked out of the diner.

Grantaire could see him through the window. He had his concentrated face on, Grantaire knew that one quite well, but once Enjolras saw that Grantaire watching him he stuck his tongue out, only to grow serious again a second later when whoever he was calling answered the phone.

Grantaire spent the following five minutes making faces at him, incredibly satisfied with how hard it seemed to be for Enjolras not to just burst out laughing. Grantaire had just started blowing kisses at him, when Enjolras’ eyes flickered slightly to the left and Grantaire turned around to find the waitress standing behind him, smiling at him a little too brightly.

“Would you like some more coffee?” she asked, sharing a smile with Enjolras, who was still looking inside through the window with an entirely too smug grin on his face.

Grantaire blushed furiously. “No, just the check please,” he muttered.

A few minutes later, after Grantaire had paid, Enjolras slid into the seat next to Grantaire. “Ready to go?”

Grantaire nodded and grabbed his unused napkin before he let Enjolras lead him outside and back to the car. He didn’t really pay attention to where they were going, honestly, Enjolras could be taking them to Alaska and Grantaire wouldn’t notice until they were there and face to face with a polar bear. If they had those in Alaska.

He would have asked Enjolras, because Enjolras always knew shit like that, but Grantaire was too busy looking for a pen in the glove department.

He dug one up eventually, one that actually worked even, and started scribbling on the napkin he’d taken. It wasn’t easy, because it was dark already, but he managed.

“What are you doing?” Enjolras asked quietly.

Grantaire looked up, but made sure Enjolras couldn’t look at the napkin. “Making a list.”

“A list,” Enjolras echoed, eyes on the road again.

“You said we should make a list, so I’m making a list. I thought you’d be pleased because I’m doing what you said,” Grantaire said jokingly.

Enjolras laughed. “I thought you were too tired to listen.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss Enjolras on the cheek. He knew Enjolras hadn’t shaved this morning, but he had no stubble to speak of, not ever, but Grantaire lingered a few seconds longer than he usually would anyway.

“Careful, I’m driving,” Enjolras mumbled, but didn’t complain any further when Grantaire moved on to his neck.

“Let’s be honest, I’ve done worse things,” Grantaire whispered. He tried to remember where they’d been that day, somewhere close to the Grand Canyon probably, the sun burning down on them. He’d been dreading arriving in Los Angeles, because as long as they’d been on the road things had been so strangely clear between them, but he’d feared once they didn’t have anywhere to go together anymore, well, that they just wouldn’t. He’d never been so wrong in his life.

Grantaire’s hand settled on Enjolras’ thigh, almost involuntarily.

“Don’t even think about it.” Enjolras hissed when Grantaire started sucking a bruise into his skin. “I’m serious,” he added, when Grantaire playfully squeezed his thigh.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Grantaire said innocently and drew back. “I have a list to write.”

“Can I see?” Enjolras asked. Grantaire was pretty sure that he’d tried not to sound so incredibly curious. He hadn’t exactly managed.

“No, you’re driving, I don’t want to distract you anything,” Grantaire said and kept writing.

Enjolras sighed heavily. “Can I see it _later_?”

“Maybe.”

Thirty minutes later Grantaire was fast asleep, his napkin was safely tucked away, and he didn’t wake up until Enjolras shook him awake. He did so gently, as always. Enjolras sometimes seemed like someone who didn’t know what gentle even meant, he could be quite brusque, sometimes dismissive and harsh, sure, and Grantaire understood why some people thought he was always like that. He was just glad that he got to see a different side of him.

“We there?” Grantaire mumbled sleepily.

“In a minute,” Enjolras confirmed. “It’s just down the road if I’m not completely wrong.”

“That looks… um, nice?”

“Yes, well, my father is… my family… we’re not exactly poor, I told you that, and we have a lot of connections like that, you know?” Enjolras bit his lip and stared straight ahead, even though they’d stopped at a traffic light and he could have easily looked over at Grantaire. “I’m not… proud of it, I usually use my allowance on other-”

“Enjolras, it’s okay, I understand.” Grantaire knew what Enjolras did with his money - he hardly ever spent any of it on indulgences, it was all for his causes and for charities and so on. Grantaire had never had much money, but if he did, he’d do the same.

“Good,” Enjolras breathed. “Anyway, Mr. Jones has been a friend of the family for years. I haven’t seen him in a while, but he sounded absolutely delighted to hear from me.”

“Don’t all receptionists at fancy hotels sound absolutely delighted?”

“He owns the hotel. Anyway, my dad called him a couple of days ago to let him know I was coming.”

“That _you_ were coming?”

“Yes, I mentioned that I wouldn’t be coming alone when I called him earlier, though.”

Mr. Jones, it turned out, was a good-natured guy, probably in his late forties, who greeted them with a little more enthusiasm than necessary and insisted on showing them to their room himself, questioning Enjolras about college and his father and his family. Grantaire trailed after them, wondering how much it cost to spend a night here as he took in the exquisite carpet and furniture and paintings.

“I’m really sorry I can’t offer you boys a suite,” Mr. Jones was saying as he opened the door to their room for them.

“Oh, this is perfectly fine,” Enjolras assured him, “thank you so much for getting us a room on such short notice.”

“No problem at all. Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Enjoy your stay.”

Once the door had closed behind him, Enjolras let himself fall onto the king size bed, which Grantaire took as an invitation to let himself fall right onto him.

“I’m…” Grantaire started. Somehow he didn’t manage to end that sentence. Quite frankly, he was a bit lost for words.

“You know, when I was little we stayed at places like this all the time,” Enjolras told him. His hand slowly slid down Grantaire’s back as if to distract him.

Grantaire wanted to know more, though. Enjolras hardly ever talked about his family, or his past, he was the definition of living in the here and now, but Grantaire was curious. “Tell me more.”

Enjolras’ hand smoothly slid under Grantaire’s shirt. “Well, my father used to take me on business trips every now and then.”

“Must have been fun,” Grantaire mumbled when he realized that was all Enjolras had to say about it.

“I was never bored. Hotels are quite fun, especially when you’re younger.”

Grantaire couldn’t really imagine a younger Enjolras, one that didn’t want to save the world. “I’ve never seen a picture of you as a kid, you know?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you know I showed you that really embarrassing photo of me eating spaghetti when I was four, I think you owe me some photographic evidence that you actually were a child once.”

Enjolras snorted. “I’ll dig something up for you, I promise.”

“Hm, very good.”

Grantaire fell silent as Enjolras kept drawing patterns on his back with his fingertips. It was late, but he wasn’t really tired, he’d slept more than enough in the car, although he was pretty sure that Enjolras was exhausted. Grantaire had been a little worried in the morning, because Enjolras hadn’t seemed as well-rested as usual, and that had been entirely his fault. All he wanted to do was apologize again and again, for everything he’d ever done wrong, but Enjolras wouldn’t have it.

Grantaire almost jumped out of his skin when Enjolras suddenly spoke up again.

 “Maybe you could come to my parents’ house. I mean, I have to take the car back at some point, and you could come along,” he said very quickly. “If you want, that is,” he added, barely inaudible.

Grantaire sat up, so he could look at Enjolras. “You want me to meet your family?”

“I want to show you a picture of me baking mud cakes, but yeah, I suppose you can meet my family, too. In fact, my mother will be very happy to show you every embarrassing picture of me that has ever been taken.”

“You want me to meet your family.” It wasn’t a question this time.

“We don’t have to tell them that we’re together, I can introduce you as my friend if that would make you feel better, but I… I’d like them to know. But if you think it’s too soon… well, think about it, will you?”

“Yeah, I will,” Grantaire promised. He felt nervous, even though there was nothing to be nervous about, so he rolled off of Enjolras and buried his face in one of the outrageously fluffy pillows, hoping Enjolras wouldn’t notice that he was freaking out about nothing.

Enjolras, however, didn’t do him that favor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out, I just thought you might want to, it’s fine if you don’t.”

“They’re going to hate me.”

“What?”

“They are going to hate me, Enjolras. It’d take a miracle for them to think that I’m good enough for you. Hell, not even I think that I’m good enough for you, how are they supposed to-”

“Grantaire.” Enjolras was tugging at his shirt. “Please look at me.”

Grantaire shook his head. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud and now he just wanted this extremely comfortable bed to swallow him whole to save him from the conversation that was probably about to follow.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, you’re just going to have to trust me on that. I don’t do things halfway, Grantaire, you know that. I want to be with you, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

He knew it was true. Enjolras didn’t lie. Maybe he would if he really had to, but he wouldn’t lie to Grantaire, not about something like this. And it really wasn’t Enjolras’ fault that Grantaire still found it hard to believe him.

“I…” He could hear Enjolras take a deep breath. “You mean a lot to me.”

Enjolras’ fingers slowly crept into Grantaire’s hair and Grantaire sighed contently. He really needed to calm down. He’d been so different around Enjolras last summer, everything had been easier, maybe because he hadn’t had anything to lose, in any case, he found himself wishing he could have some of that confidence back.

Grantaire turned over slowly, managed a small smile and took the napkin out of his pocket.


	7. Chapter 7

Enjolras stared at the napkin Grantaire was holding out to him, both curious and terrified at the same time. He really didn’t know what to expect. It could be a list of things he’d done wrong, or a list of things he needed to do better, or a list of things that Grantaire thought he’d done wrong, which would be even worse, because Enjolras didn’t want him to take the blame for the mess they were in.

Enjolras himself had never been good at admitting that he made mistakes, of course he did, he was only human after all, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Feel free to add to it,” Grantaire mumbled and placed the napkin between them on the bed when Enjolras didn’t take it. “You know I’m usually good at talking, but I’ve never… I’ve never cared all that much about the things I say, I talk a lot of shit, and I get that I hurt you sometimes and that I seem careless and maybe I’m not entirely convinced when it comes to all the things you fight for, but if there’s one person who can make a change, it’s you. I just wanted you to know that. I wanted to put that on the napkin, too, but I ran out of space. I, um, yeah…”

Enjolras bit his lip, knowing it was his turn to speak now, it was just that he didn’t know to say. He was tired, he wasn’t sure which part of his body hurt the most, but he also wanted to tell Grantaire how much it meant to him that he’d just said that and he wanted to tell him that he loved him so, so much, but he just couldn’t seem to find the words.

He knew he’d already taken things a step too far when he’d asked Grantaire to come meet his parents and he didn’t want to freak Grantaire out anymore with things like spontaneous love confessions. He was just now starting to realize that he couldn’t just spring these things on Grantaire. Maybe you couldn’t just spring these things on _anyone_ , but how would he know, his relationship with Grantaire was the longest he’d ever been in.

“Enjolras?” Grantaire said and reached out to brush a few stray curls out of Enjolras’ face. His expression was worried. “Something wrong?”

“No, I’m sorry, I’m a little out of it.” He smiled and took the napkin, but without glimpsing at what was written on it. He felt like he was half-asleep already and he didn’t want to start another fight by saying the wrong thing. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Thank you.”

“Take a nap,” Grantaire said, smiling softly. Enjolras could hear Grantaire’s shoes hitting the floor, so he toed off his own as well. Grantaire then tugged at Enjolras until his head was resting against his chest. “We’ll talk later.”

“You always say that,” Enjolras murmured into Grantaire’s shirt, but didn’t otherwise protest. He wanted to, but his eyelids were already drooping shut and, yes, this was really nice, Grantaire’s fingers slowly combing through his hair and his steady heartbeat right beneath his ear and the warmth of Grantaire’s arms around him. It took less than a minute for him to fall asleep.

When he woke up again he felt slightly disoriented. The lights were still on, but a glance out the window told him that it was night. Another glance at the clock told him that it was just past midnight. Grantaire was asleep.

Enjolras sat up and plucked the crumpled napkin from where it had been squished between them and started to read. Grantaire’s handwriting was messy and Enjolras wondered briefly if his hand had been shaking until he remembered that it was probably because it had been so dark in the car.

The list read like this:

  * _I’m a fucking mess_
  * _but you know that already_
  * _you make things better most of the time_
  * _a lot better_
  * _really_
  * _but you can’t fix me and I’m scared that you might want to try and realize that I’m not fixable and that you’re wasting your time_
  * _but I want you to know that I’ll stay with you as long as you’ll have me_
  * _I won’t leave unless you ask me to_



Enjolras’ first impulse was to wake Grantaire up and tell him that he was wrong, that he didn’t need to be fixed and that Enjolras liked him just the way he was, with his problems and all, because everyone had problems, and Grantaire wouldn’t be Grantaire without them.

A few months ago he might have thought differently, because he always wanted to help, but treating Grantaire like a charity case and not like his boyfriend wouldn’t exactly improve their situation. At least that’s what he’d got from an extended talk with Courfeyrac.

Instead of waking Grantaire up like he’d initially wanted to, he slowly got up and went to sit at the desk by the window. He grabbed a pen, started down at the napkin for a while and eventually wrote _And I won’t leave unless you ask me to either_. He knew he should probably say more than that, but it was all that mattered in the end, that neither of them would just give up on the other.

He put it on Grantaire’s nightstand, then he quickly got rid of his jeans before he slipped back into bed. “’Aire,” he whispered and nudged him.

“Hm ‘Jolras, ‘s it morning?”

“No, it’s not, but you’re still wearing all your clothes,” Enjolras told him.

Grantaire managed to unbutton his pants but only shoved them down and tried to kick them off, which he ultimately failed at. Enjolras reached down to tug them off along with his socks and let them fall to the floor. Grantaire mumbled something that distinctly sounded like a _thank you_ , but he seemed to be fast asleep again by the time Enjolras tugged the sheets around them.

“I swear, I’ve never met anyone who sleeps this much,” he grumbled as he put an arm around Grantaire, who didn’t answer, but Enjolras could have sworn that he’d snuggled a little closer.

In the morning, Grantaire was awake before him for once. He was smiling, and so close that his nose nearly brushed against Enjolras’, his dark curls a stark contrast against the white sheets his eyes clear and wide awake and somehow even brighter than usual.

He liked mornings with Grantaire. He couldn’t remember a single fight they’d had in the morning, which meant that either they hadn’t been bad or there hadn’t been any. Enjolras would almost bet on the latter.

“I love your eyes,” Enjolras whispered, because, well, he’d just woken up and his brain-to-mouth filter wasn’t working properly just yet and also because it was true.

Grantaire chuckled. “Why, thank you.”

“Sleep well?” Enjolras asked and wrapped himself around Grantaire, so that his head was tucked under Grantaire’s chin.

“Hm, yes,” Grantaire mumbled. “By the way, thanks for making me take my pants off.”

“Anytime,” Enjolras said smugly, which had Grantaire laughing into his curls. Enjolras smiled. “I love your laugh, too, you know?”

“Hey there, go easy on the compliments, it’s gonna go to my head and I’ll be unbearable all day.” Grantaire paused. “Okay, I can basically _hear_ you frowning.”

Enjolras hadn’t been frowning. Really. “Shut up, I’m trying to be nice,” he muttered. “I added something on the napkin, by the way.”

He could almost feel how uncomfortable Grantaire suddenly was. “Oh?”

“It’s on your nightstand.”

Enjolras could feel Grantaire shift, very slowly, then he stopped dead.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras asked tentatively.

“Enjolras,” he replied, maybe a little gruffly. Enjolras tried to sit up, but Grantaire stopped him. “No, stay right there,” he said and pulled Enjolras even closer. “You know, I meant what I said. Or wrote. Whatever.”

“So did I,” Enjolras protested. He wanted to look at Grantaire, but he held him quite firmly.

“I know,” Grantaire said, “that’s not what I meant. I was talking about what I wrote before that. That one day you’ll realize… well, you’ll realize that you’ve wasted your time on me and that you could have done… things and that I was just in the way and maybe you’ll wish you hadn’t-”

“No,” Enjolras interrupted. “ _No_.” It hurt him to hear Grantaire say those things, he didn’t even want him to _think_ anything like that.

“No?” Grantaire asked, his voice a mere whisper.

“No. Just no.” He tilted his head so he could kiss Grantaire’s neck. “See, I don’t waste my time, if I thought being with you was a waste of time, I wouldn’t be here. Can you just accept that you’re stuck with me?”

Grantaire hummed thoughtfully. “I can try.”

“Good, that’s a start.”

“I might relapse,” Grantaire said suddenly. “One day I might not be able to deal anymore and I’ll just go to a bar and get shitfaced and then…”

“Then I’ll still be there.”

“But how can you…”

“What?”

“How can you want that?”

“I want to be with you, that’s what I want, and I’ll do whatever it takes to stay with you. You’re not the only one who has flaws. And you’ve been so strong all this time. I want to help you, but on your own terms, okay? That’s what you do for the people you love.”

“You…” Grantaire’s arms tightened around him. “Okay, right.”

“I’ll try not to be moody when I’ve been working all day,” Enjolras continued, ignoring his earlier slip-up. “I know I take it out on you sometimes and it’s not fair.”

“I do the same thing, though.” Grantaire sighed. “And I know you’ll try, but we both know very well that we won’t just stop arguing overnight. Maybe we need a yell jar. You know, like a swear jar but for when one of us starts yelling. And with the money we can… I don’t know, go to Coney Island.”

Grantaire was probably right, even though Enjolras promised himself that he’d still make an effort. “Or we can pay for a flat with a bathtub,” he suggested. He didn’t like Coney Island, not one bit.

“See, and I thought I was obsessed with that bathtub.”

“Oh, shut up,” Enjolras grumbled.

“Ah, you liked it.”

“Of course I liked it, you were in it.”

“Aw, my ego is getting bigger and bigger.”

Enjolras snorted. “Okay, I’ll stop now.”

It wasn’t until much later that Grantaire picked up the topic from this morning again. They’d strolled through the French Quarter for a while and Enjolras had let Grantaire drag him through St. Louis Cemetery, looking up information on his phone and talking about Voodoo priestesses in his best tour guide voice.

After a long discussion they’d got some Jambalaya for an early dinner and had headed back to their hotel quite early, since Grantaire’s kisses had grown more and more insistent and thorough over the course of the day and Enjolras had felt the need to drag him off before one of them did something that would get them arrested for public indecency.

It was then – in their dimly lit hotel room, with the sheets tangled around them, both of them still breathing raggedly, Enjolras’ fingers lazily running through Grantaire’s sweat-damp curls – that Grantaire turned so he was face to face with Enjolras, much like in the morning.

“So,” Grantaire whispered, his nose brushing against Enjolras’, “about that bathtub.”

“Yeah?” Enjolras asked. He tried to keep his tone neutral, not hopeful, definitely not hopeful.

“Do you want that?” His voice was unsteady, but his eyes were intent, his gaze didn’t waver.

Enjolras swallowed. “The bathtub? Or the thing we’ve been using the bathtub as metaphor for?”

“You know what,” Grantaire said firmly.

“I said I did, didn’t I? I mean, not necessarily right now, but… in the foreseeable future.”

“Do you think it would work? Really? The two of us together all the time?”

“Well, if we don’t try, we’ll never know. I suppose there’ll be a lot of arguing, but that’s nothing we’re not used to. I mean, we already agreed that there won’t be any flower patterns.”

Grantaire snorted. “Yeah, at least one thing we won’t be arguing about, which leaves… pretty much everything else.”

“I still want to,” Enjolras said, almost defiantly. Maybe one of his problems was that he always sounded like he _wanted_ to start a fight. He’d have to work on that.

Grantaire only smiled and kissed him. “Okay. Let’s just wait and see, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Enjolras leaned in to steal another kiss. “I love your lips, too, by the way.”

“Oh, that again,” Grantaire mused, a smile playing around his lips. “I’d tell you that I’m really not that great, but you’d probably draw up a power point to prove me wrong.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. Apparently Grantaire had had to watch him make power point presentations a few times too often. “Yes, you better just go with it.”

“Hm, so bossy.” Grantaire laughed. “Anyway, do you want to go back out, it’s still early.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I’m perfectly fine right here. Unless you want to-”

He was shut up with a kiss, which seemed to be Grantaire’s way of saying _No, we’re not going anywhere_.


	8. Chapter 8

“So, any plans for today?” Enjolras asked. “More cemeteries? More dubious food?” He was already dressed and ready to go, and had apparently gone down to the lobby to get a newspaper, which he’d put aside when Grantaire had emerged from the bathroom.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Jambalaya is not dubious, Enjolras.”

“It _sounds_ dubious. I mean, I liked it, but can we just get pizza today?”

“Why do I like you again?” Grantaire mumbled as he tried to dig up some clean clothes from his backpack.

Enjolras looked a lot like he was pouting, but Grantaire didn’t pay him any mind, only stuck out his tongue at him when Enjolras kept frowning.

“Stop being grumpy,” Grantaire said and jumped on the bed. He straddled Enjolras’ hips and grabbed his hands in one swift motion. “I’m not letting you go unless you stop and give me a kiss.”

“You’re such a child,” Enjolras grumbled, blue eyes staring up at Grantaire defiantly.

Grantaire smiled and started kissing Enjolras’ knuckles one by one, watching as Enjolras’ expression shifted from exasperation to something that Grantaire couldn’t quite name. Fondness, maybe. He loved it when Enjolras looked at him like this, it made him feel less cold inside, a little less worthless and a little, well, loved.

Enjolras had been surprisingly pliant the day before, had followed Grantaire around and had made a point in not arguing with him. Grantaire was trying to do the same. When he let go of Enjolras’ hands, they immediately reached to pull him down, not into a kiss but a prolonged embrace that lasted until Grantaire eventually pulled away. “Ready for more cemeteries?”

“Are you serious?” Enjolras asked. “Maybe something less morbid?”

“We can go to the French Market,” Grantaire offered. He’d googled sights on Enjolras’ phone the day before and he was planning on seeing all of them before they went back home. “I’ll buy you a voodoo doll.”

Enjolras pursed his lips, but Grantaire could see that he was at least somewhat interested. They had breakfast at their hotel, then they found a Streetcar to take them to the French Market, which wasn’t quite as French as its name would suggest.

“This is just tourist crap,” Enjolras complained as Grantaire dragged him past the many different vendors, considering what kinds of souvenirs to bring home.

Grantaire elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t even pretend you don’t like it, I’ve seen all the _tourist crap_ from last summer on your shelves.”

“Well, it reminds me of you,” Enjolras said so quietly that Grantaire first thought he’d misheard.

Grantaire wasn’t sure if Enjolras was still just trying really hard or if he just felt especially affectionate these days, anyway, Grantaire sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

Enjolras did care about him, and even though Grantaire wouldn’t easily admit it, but he liked being told so. It was nice. He liked it when Enjolras said those things to him, because Enjolras said them like he meant it, which made if far easier for Grantaire to actually believe them.

When they left the Market, hand in hand, they were both wearing colorful bead necklaces, which Enjolras didn’t seem to like all that much, since he kept picking at them and trying to convince Grantaire to just wear all of them, and were now on their way back to the heart of the French Quarter.

They eventually reached a busy street that was littered with horse-drawn carriages, all parked next to a big white church – St. Louis Cathedral, a sign told them.

“Look, Enjolras, carriages,” Grantaire cooed and tugged at Enjolras’ sleeve.

“Do you have any idea how these people treat their horses, they’re-”

Grantaire interrupted him with a long-suffering sigh. “Okay, okay, I get it, no carriage ride for me.”

“You’re going to hold this against me at some point, aren’t you?” Enjolras asked gruffly.

“I’d never,” Grantaire said and kissed him on the cheek. “Now, let’s get you some pizza, I can tell that you’re getting hungry.”

Enjolras did get his pizza and after dinner they ended up in Bourbon Street, where a quite impressive crowd had gathered. They passed a group of dancers, a bar that advertised _huge ass beers_ , and a small square where a jazz band was playing, which was where Grantaire finally stopped. Enjolras hadn’t shown any interest in entering a bar at all, and Grantaire wasn’t too keen on it either, even though he didn’t feel like it would bother him much, but this was nice as well.

They stayed to listen for a while, Enjolras’ arm tight around Grantaire’s waist. “You haven’t played for me in a while,” Enjolras said when the band had stopped playing to take a break.

Grantaire’s head snapped up. “What?”

“You used to play songs for me, on your guitar, you know, when I came over.” Enjolras shrugged. “You haven’t done that in a while.”

“Well,” Grantaire mumbled and slowly dragged Enjolras onwards, “I didn’t think you liked it that much.”

“I did,” Enjolras replied. “I love it when you sing.”

Grantaire pointedly did not look at Enjolras. He really needed to stop freaking out every time Enjolras uttered the word _love_. Because he’d been doing that a lot lately, and every time he did, Grantaire had to keep himself from just yelling _I love you_ – and quite possibly running away afterwards. He was quite sure about his feelings for Enjolras, and had been for a while, he just wasn’t sure how Enjolras would react, so he’d chosen to keep it to himself for a while longer.

So he simply settled for, “I’ll keep that in mind,” and promised himself he wouldn’t forget about it once they got back to New York.

Grantaire had never played for anyone before, not like that. He’d been in a shitty band in high school, but they’d never actually done much and their rehearsals had mostly consisted of them tuning their instruments and then turning to smoking pot. Anyhow, he’d been able to tell people that he was the guitarist in a bad, which had been pretty cool.

Now, singing had always made him nervous. Not that he’d ever let that stop him, though, he enjoyed it too much. Still, he hardly ever sat down and actually played songs for people, it was just the odd Happy Birthday every now and then, or karaoke, or singing along to the radio.

He remembered the first time he’d played for Enjolras quite well. It hadn’t been too long after they’d come back from California, sometime in the middle of the night. Grantaire had been fast asleep but had woken up to Enjolras clinging to him like his life depended on it, which had been, as Grantaire had found out, because Enjolras was terrified of thunderstorms.

And instead of waking him up like a normal person, he’d apparently decided to cut off Grantaire’s air supply.

Once he’d woken up and convinced Enjolras to let go for just a second, he’d grabbed his guitar and had started playing and Enjolras had been smiling at him, and Grantaire hadn’t felt self-conscious for a second, there had been no need to be loud and obnoxious to hide how he really felt, because Enjolras had looked so perfectly content and Grantaire had had no choice but to feel the same way.

The storm had passed, as they always did, but the next time Enjolras had come over, he’d asked Grantaire to play again.

Grantaire wasn’t sure why he’d stopped. Maybe because Enjolras had stopped asking him to.

“Everything okay?” Enjolras asked.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking,” Grantaire muttered and leaned up to kiss Enjolras, which was distraction enough to somehow make him miss the end of the sidewalk. He slid off the curb and Enjolras caught him by the elbow.

“Careful,” Enjolras muttered. “You okay?”

“I’m fi-ahh…” Maybe not fine. Maybe he’d just managed to twist his ankle. Great. Fucking fantastic. “On second thought,” he added, “maybe it hurts a bit.”

“How much is a bit?” Enjolras inquired, still steadying Grantaire. “Can you walk back? It’s not too far from the Streetcar stop to our hotel, but we can get a cab.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll be fine.”

He hobbled to the Streetcar, Enjolras throwing him concerned looks all the while, and Grantaire tried very hard to keep a straight face, but it really did hurt a lot. The way back to their hotel, even though it couldn’t have been more than a quarter of a mile was torturous and Grantaire was incredibly grateful when they’d finally made it up to their room and he could sit down.

“I’ll try to get some ice for that,” Enjolras told him as he carefully took off Grantaire’s shoes – something Grantaire could have easily done himself, as he’d told Enjolras, but he’d insisted. “It looks a bit swollen, I think I’ll call Joly, just to check.”

“Stop fussing, it’s not that bad,” Grantaire grumbled and wiggled his foot to make a point. “It only hurts when I put weight on it, it’ll probably be just fine in the morning.” Hopefully it would be, because tomorrow was New Year’s Eve and he didn’t want to spend it at a doctor’s office. And he didn’t want Enjolras to have to spend it at a doctor’s office with him.

Enjolras nodded, although Grantaire was pretty sure that he was just humoring him, and grabbed his phone and one of the key cards for their room. “I’ll still get you some ice for that. And I’ll call Joly.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” Grantaire said, silently cursing every God that came to his mind.

Enjolras returned with a pack of ice and was thankfully looking less worried than before. “Joly says you’re going to be fine.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Told you.”

“No walking, though,” Enjolras said firmly.

“What am I supposed to do then, fly around New Orleans?”

“Guess we’ll have to stay here and watch crappy TV and order room service.”

“But tomorrow’s-”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said and smacked the icepack on top of his foot with maybe a little too much force, “walking around the city all day is just going to make it worse.”

Grantaire huffed. “But-”

“No.” Enjolras climbed onto the bed. “Take that off if it gets too cold, okay? Anyway, I don’t mind staying here. It’s not like we’ve made plans and I’m fine right here as long as you’re here, too. Which you will be, because I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“You’re a horrible pain in the ass, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Grantaire sighed. “Thanks, though.”

“Anytime,” Enjolras whispered and pillowed his head on Grantaire’s thigh – always a silent invitation for Grantaire to play with his hair – before he turned on the TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the finish line, kids. I'll probably have the next chapter up by Friday.


	9. Chapter 9

“You can’t seriously want to stay here all day,” Grantaire said again. He’d spent the last thirty minutes pouting silently, after Enjolras had got him some more ice for his ankle and called room service to get them some breakfast and told him that he was being unreasonable for still wanting to walk around the city. At least he’d now decided to speak to him again.

“Does it still hurt when you walk?” Enjolras asked. He wasn’t really worried anymore, not after Joly had assured him that it really didn’t sound too bad and that Grantaire would probably be just fine. Now he was just annoyed.

Grantaire rolled his eyes as way of answering.

“Well, does it?”

“A bit,” Grantaire finally said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be that bad, though.”

“It would just get worse,” Enjolras said firmly. “Why are you so keen on going out anyway? We’ve pretty much seen everything already.”

“First of all, there’s _always_ more to see,” Grantaire told him as he reached down to adjust his icepack, “and second of all, I just know that we’ll start arguing about something or quite possibly multiple things if we have to spend too much time in an enclosed space with nowhere else to go.”

“Guess we’ll have to find something to do to distract ourselves.”

Grantaire smiled lazily and nodded. “Okay, let’s have sex all day, that’s a great idea.”

That hadn’t been what Enjolras had meant, not exactly, then again, he wasn’t opposed to it either. “Not what I had in mind, but why not.”

“What did you have in mind, though?” Grantaire asked curiously. “If you were planning on doing _work_ -”

“No, no work, as promised,” Enjolras cut in, then he shrugged and pulled Grantaire’s sketchbook out of his bag. “I haven’t seen you with this in a while.”

“Ah, that.” Grantaire took it from him and started leafing through it. “It’s a shame you didn’t move the sheets, you know,” he mumbled and turned the sketchbook, so Enjolras could look at the sketch Grantaire had drawn back in their hotel Virginia.

It was beautiful and somewhat unsettling, because it looked so much like himself, but at the same time it did not, not at all. Enjolras cleared his throat. “It’s, um, really good.” Good lord, now he was blushing.

Grantaire smirked. “Do you want to see some of the others?”

Enjolras nodded. Grantaire had occasionally shown him drawings and all of them had been exceptional, but those had been the ones he’d done for his classes, but his sketchbook, well, it was a little more personal and now Grantaire was just handing it to him as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“There are no drawings of you naked, I promise,” Grantaire said, when Enjolras was a little reluctant to just flick through it.

Enjolras hadn’t expected any, to be honest, not with how Grantaire kept asking him for permission. He recognized some landmarks they’d seen on their way to California in the summer, all of them drawn from memory, then one of Enjolras, there were streets in Brooklyn that Enjolras had walked down hand in hand with Grantaire, the dog that always lay in front of the small grocery store down the road, a liquor store, dark, like a gate to hell, followed by a drawing of Cosette, kids playing in the park, a dark forest, trees with branches that looked like hands reaching out to snatch someone away, a drawing of Enjolras, then, for some reason, a dragon wearing a top hat, Enjolras again, this time with Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

That was where Enjolras stopped. “You’re not in any of them.”

Grantaire shrugged. “I’m the one who draws, how could I be in them?”

Enjolras hardly knew anything about art, but he was pretty sure that self-portraits were a thing. He decided not to mention that. “Right… I really like this one, by the way,” he said and tapped on the drawing he’d been looking at.

“You can have it, just rip it out,” Grantaire replied.

“I can’t just rip out the page, Grantaire,” Enjolras mumbled and turned the page. “There’s something on the back.”

Grantaire took the book from him and turned the page. “That’s just a random house.”

Something about Grantaire’s expression told him that it was not just some random house. “Really?”

“Maybe it’s the house I grew up in, anyway, you can have it.”

Enjolras touched the page without having meant to. “It’s falling apart.”

Grantaire snapped the sketchbook shut. “That’s just how I remember it.” He smiled, and somehow it seemed genuine, even though Enjolras was sure that he’d just touched on one of the subjects that usually made Grantaire withdraw and not speak for a worryingly long time. Grantaire nudged him. “I can redo the sketch of you guys with nothing on the back.”

“Thank you,” Enjolras said and kissed him on the cheek.

“Now,” Grantaire said, eyes glinting in a way that made Enjolras feel a bit uneasy, “sit here and look pretty.”

Grantaire grabbed his sketchbook, slid off the bed and walked over to his bag to get his pencils. Enjolras saw that he actually had to make an effort not to wince at every step he took. Yes, staying here had been a great idea and he was pretty sure that Grantaire would agree if he wasn’t insisting on being such a stubborn idiot.

Enjolras leaned back against the headboard, watching as Grantaire made himself comfortable on the armchair across from their bed. “Don’t you ever get tired of drawing me?”

“Never,” Grantaire said with a wink.

“I’m a bit surprised that you haven’t asked me to take my clothes off yet,” Enjolras mumbled.

Grantaire grinned. “You wouldn’t.”

See, Enjolras knew exactly what Grantaire was doing, he was challenging him, because Grantaire knew very well that it would provoke Enjolras to do it just to prove him wrong. And unfortunately he was right about that. “Maybe I would,” Enjolras said, his eyes narrowed.

“Right,” Grantaire drawled and flicked through his sketchbook until he’d found an empty page. “And why would you suddenly change your mind?”

Enjolras shrugged. He hadn’t changed his mind, not really, then again, it wasn’t a big deal and it wasn’t like Grantaire would show the drawing to anyone. This would be just between the two of them.

Enjolras, still glaring at Grantaire, because, really, this was just childish, quickly stripped out off his clothes, all of them, deeply satisfied with how flustered Grantaire was looking all of a sudden.

“Okay then,” Grantaire whispered. “Fine. Just… yeah, just lie down and make sure you can, um, stay like that for a while… yeah.”

Enjolras smiled at him as he rested his head on his arm, feeling really accomplished all of a sudden.

“Smug bastard,” Grantaire grumbled, but set to work. His cheeks almost looked a little pink.

Enjolras didn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought he would, after all it was nothing Grantaire hadn’t seen before and the sun was shining in through the windows, warming up the room. Or maybe it was just Grantaire’s eyes on him that made him feel a little warmer than usual. Grantaire’s gaze was intense and apparently it was Enjolras’ turn to be flustered now.

“Something the matter?” Grantaire asked innocently when Enjolras had shifted in an attempt to hide how aroused he actually was. He had a feeling that it wasn’t working very well.

“No, everything’s fine,” Enjolras muttered, trying to stare Grantaire down, so he’d stop looking at him like that, but Grantaire simply wouldn’t. “Go on,” Enjolras added.

“In a second, I’m just admiring the view.” Grantaire’s lips were twitching and Enjolras absolutely hated him. The way Grantaire’s eyes were raking down his body was absolutely obscene and it didn’t exactly help Enjolras’ situation. If anything, it just made it worse. “Relax,” Grantaire mumbled and picked up his pencil again.

“I am relaxed,” Enjolras hissed.

 “You look a little… on edge, to be honest,” Grantaire mused, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Just keep drawing,” Enjolras said through gritted teeth. God, he just wanted to reach down and touch himself, because Grantaire was showing an incredible amount of self-restraint and sure as hell wouldn’t do it for him. Enjolras needed to do _something_.

“Fine,” Grantaire said nonchalantly.

Enjolras managed to somewhat calm down while Grantaire kept working silently.

“You look beautiful, you know,” Grantaire mumbled after a while.

Enjolras took a deep breath. It was downright embarrassing how much of an effect Grantaire’s words had on him.

“And you do have golden hair,” Grantaire continued. “Especially in the sunlight. Do you mind shifting a little? Towards me?”

Enjolras complied instantly and couldn’t help but whimper when his hard cock brushed against the sheets.

Grantaire, too, shifted in his chair. “I want to touch you so badly right now.”

“Then why don’t you?” Enjolras asked. He’d do about anything to get Grantaire’s hands on him.

“As distracting as you are, I really want to finish this.”

Enjolras groaned. “God, I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” Enjolras agreed. “Grantaire, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please get over here right now.

“Patience.”

“You’re a fucking tease.”

Grantaire smiled. “Guess you’ll have to make do without me for the time being.”

“Are you serious?” Enjolras had never been good at controlling himself, sometimes he didn’t know when to keep his opinion to himself, sometimes he didn’t care if no one wanted to hear what he had to say, he did whatever he felt he had to do. He looked at Grantaire, who seemed incredibly interested in what was going to happen next, but still hadn’t moved an inch closer to the bed. “You _are_ serious.”

Grantaire only smirked and turned his attention back to his sketchbook.

“Can I at least move?” Enjolras inquired.

“Oh, sure, I’m almost done.”

Enjolras kept his eyes on Grantaire as he rolled onto his back and started stroking himself, slowly at first, watching for Grantaire’s reaction. He wasn’t really keen on putting on a show for Grantaire, but he could see that his self-restraint was faltering, so it was well worth it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Grantaire asked, his voice carefully steady.

“Oh, definitely, you’re missing out,” Enjolras whispered and sped up his strokes.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute until Grantaire eventually abandoned his sketchbook entirely and took to staring at Enjolras, lips parted, his breathing a little unsteady, and quite obviously just as hard as Enjolras.

“Grantaire…” It came out more like a moan rather than the request it had meant to be, but it seemed to be just as effective, because Grantaire finally left his chair and limped back over to the bed.

Grantaire took hold of his hands first, pinned them over his head and bent down to suck at his neck, slowly making his way down to Enjolras’ collarbone.

“Finished with your drawing?” Enjolras asked, glad that he still seemed to be able to form sentences, even though Grantaire was currently doing anything he could to take that ability away from him.

“Almost,” Grantaire mumbled against his skin. “You won, are you happy?”

“Very,” Enjolras answered.

Grantaire let go of his wrists and Enjolras nearly asked him not to, but forgot all about it when Grantaire started jerking him off, almost roughly, and Enjolras loved it, every bit of it, he loved Grantaire’s hands so, so much, he wished he’d would never stop touching him.

He must have said some of it aloud, because Grantaire muttered something that sounded like “You can’t just say things like that,” before he slid down to suck him off.

At least he was done teasing now, Grantaire really was nothing if not efficient, and had Enjolras writhing underneath him with only a few clever swirls of his tongue. Enjolras’ fingers found their way into Grantaire’s curls, tugging relentlessly, but Grantaire didn’t seem to mind, only hummed his approval.

When Enjolras came, whispering profanities, his mind must have blanked for a second, because amidst all the curses and the moaned _Grantaire_ s, there had also been, indistinctly, an “I love you” that had somehow slipped out.

Admittedly, it hadn’t been the best way to finally say it.

Especially because now Grantaire was staring up at him, lips red and swollen, his hair a complete mess, blue eyes wide, all in all absolutely stunning, but also terrifyingly quiet.

Well, maybe he hadn’t heard. Enjolras was suddenly starting to hope that he really hadn’t heard.

“What?” Grantaire asked, eyebrows vanishing behind dark curls, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did I break you?”

“Only a little bit,” Enjolras said slowly. He busied himself with taking Grantaire’s shirt off, then his boxers, glad that he hadn’t bothered getting dressed in the morning.

They didn’t leave their bed that day, save for a few exceptions, like trips to the bathroom and opening the door for room service, at which Grantaire had complained loudly, because Enjolras had had to put clothes on. They’d been gone again soon enough, though.

Enjolras had also been trying to convince Grantaire to let him go get some more ice for his foot for quite a while, but Grantaire had wrapped himself around Enjolras and it didn’t look like he was about to let go any time soon.

“I can’t feel my arm,” Enjolras muttered after a while. He didn’t even know if Grantaire was awake, but it was worth a try.

“I’m not moving,” Grantaire said decidedly. “I’ve made it my mission to make you stay right where you are.”

“What if I promise that I won’t go anywhere?” God, this was like negotiating with a toddler. “I really just want to feel all of my limbs again.”

Grantaire grumbled something, then he pushed Enjolras onto his back and proceeded to make himself comfortable right on top of him. “Better?”

“Hardly,” Enjolras mumbled, but wrapped his arms around Grantaire anyway.

“What time ‘s it?”

Enjolras glanced at the clock. “Almost ten.”

“So we’re going to spend all of New Year’s Eve in bed, huh?”

“Can you think of a better place to go?”

“Actually… no.” Grantaire moved to rest his chin on Enjolras chest, looking up at him. “Tell me what you did last year.”

Enjolras began to tell Grantaire about Courfeyrac’s infamous New Year’s parties, but got sidetracked at some point and Grantaire starting talking nonsense about everything and nothing and Enjolras very slowly started brooding about what he’d said earlier.

He was still trying to convince himself that Grantaire hadn’t heard, but he couldn’t help thinking what a horrible coward he was. He’d held speeches in front of hundreds of people, he’d led rallies, he’d never had trouble stating facts. And that he loved Grantaire was a fact, too.

“Grantaire, stop talking,” he said and pushed Grantaire into an upright position.

“Okay,” Grantaire mumbled, “what did I do wrong now?”

“Nothing, nothing at all, if anyone did something wrong it was me.” He’d wasted time, because he’d been scared. He’d taken Grantaire halfway across the country, promising they’d talk, when the only thing he’d ever wanted to say was this. “I love you,” he said, finally, and oh, it was so worth it, because the look on Grantaire’s face changed from extremely confused to something entirely different, something soft and happy, yes, he looked happy and Enjolras loved it when Grantaire was happy.

Enjolras was pretty sure he’d never been as nervous as he was in the few seconds before Grantaire eventually answered. “I love you, too,” he said, smiling tentatively, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just said.

They didn’t pay attention to the time after that, they didn’t turn on the TV to watch the ball drop at Times Square, they didn’t get out of bed to watch the fireworks.

But Enjolras was certain that they had, in fact, kissed at midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (You guys don't seem all too eager when it comes to commenting, but maybe let me know if you want to have Grantaire meeting Enjolras' parents in the last chapter, because then I'll expand on that a bit.)


	10. Chapter 10

If asked, Grantaire wouldn’t even be able to even begin to describe the state of mind he was in. He felt giddy and anxious and happy and downright terrified – all at the same time. He was grateful that Enjolras currently wasn’t here to see his sort-of-breakdown.

They were in DC. They’d got there yesterday, had bought tickets for sightseeing buses, and had spent most of the day exploring the city. Grantaire had actually been quite happy that he hadn’t had to walk around the city all day and hadn’t complained when Enjolras had dragged him back to their hotel early that night because he’d wanted to set out early the next morning.

Grantaire was slowly pacing up and down the length of their room, waiting for Enjolras to return. He’d told Grantaire that there was something he needed to take care of after breakfast and had asked him to just wait for him in their room. Grantaire had complied, glad for a little time on his own, not that he didn’t want Enjolras at his side, but right now he was a little too close to freaking out and he just didn’t need a worried Enjolras making a fuss on top of that.

When Enjolras returned, Grantaire would have about four or five hours to prepare for what was going to happen next. He would meet Enjolras’ parents. He’d agreed to this, he kept telling himself, Enjolras had let him choose, he had agreed.

Why the hell had he agreed?

Now really wasn’t the time to contemplate his life choices, Grantaire knew that. He also knew that Enjolras wouldn’t be mad if he backed out and asked him to drop him off at the train station and to take the car back on his own.

But Grantaire was also aware that Enjolras wanted this, and well, Grantaire wanted it, too, he was just too damn scared of it all.

He was sure Enjolras’ parents were lovely people. People who weren’t particularly happy with the life their son led, but loved him anyway. Enjolras didn’t talk about them much, more than Grantaire talked about his parents, surely, but still.

When Grantaire heard Enjolras fumble with his key card outside the door, he quickly sat down on the bed, trying to look casual and not like he was having a nervous breakdown.

“What’s wrong?” Enjolras asked as soon as he’d closed the door.

Okay, so that hadn’t worked all too well.

“Nothing,” Grantaire said immediately. Who was he kidding, he couldn’t even convince himself.

“This is about meeting my parents, isn’t it?” Enjolras set down the plastic bag he was carrying – maybe he’d bought a souvenir for Combeferre – and sat down next to Grantaire. “I told you, I really wouldn’t mind if you decided not to come with me.”

“But I want to,” Grantaire mumbled. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I just want them to like me.”

“I’m sure they will,” Enjolras said insistently. “They’ve liked all my friends so far.”

“So you’re going to tell them that I’m just a friend?” Grantaire hadn’t meant to sound so grumpy, it had just come out that way.

“I thought that’s what you wanted?”

“Well, yeah.” Grantaire opened his eyes again and looked at Enjolras. He could see that he was beating himself up about this, that he was scared of saying the wrong thing. “Please stop looking like a kicked puppy. It’s just… I know that you want to tell them.”

“Not if it would make you feel uncomfortable. Just think about it, it’s still a few more hours until we actually get there.”

Grantaire nodded. “Okay.”

“You sure?”

Grantaire nodded again. He didn’t feel less nervous about it all, now he just had a decision to make as well and that only made it worse. “I just can’t stop feeling anxious about it, it’s not your fault or anything, it’s just me being stupid.”

“You’re not being stupid,” Enjolras grumbled. “Tell me if I can help, okay?”

“Sure,” Grantaire said and kissed his nose. “Let’s just go.”

* * *

“That’s… an impressive house,” Grantaire muttered when Enjolras pulled into the driveway of what could only be described as a mansion.

Enjolras huffed angrily as he parked his car in front of the garage. “Don’t judge me too hard, I know you think I’m a pretentious douchebag for trying to help people even though I’ve never had a single problem in my life.”

“That’s not what I said, Enjolras,” Grantaire said quietly. “You know that.”

He’d said something along the lines of that, though, and even though he hadn’t felt bad about it before, he did now. Sometimes Grantaire tended to forget that Enjolras wasn’t the only one who was prone to spewing bullshit when he was angry.

“Yes, I know.” Enjolras pulled the key out of the ignition, but didn’t move to get out of the car. “So, what are we?”

Grantaire sighed. “You decide.”

“So you’re my boyfriend, then? Are you absolutely certain?”

“If you’re sure that you want me to be,” Grantaire said, watching Enjolras carefully. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m not the pretty girl your parents have always dreamed of being introduced to someday.”

Enjolras snorted. “I’m pretty sure they’re not going to be too shocked, really. You know, my mum has actually gone from asking me when I’m finally going to bring home a girl to when I’m finally going to bring _someone_.”

And were they going to be happy about that someone being a good-for-nothing artist, who was also a recovering alcoholic and liked to wear clothes with paint stains because he was too lazy to do the laundry? Probably not.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras reached over to squeeze his hand. “Are you ready?”

“No,” Grantaire said honestly, but opened the door anyway. “Let’s go.”

“Just leave your stuff in the car, I’ll ask Mum to drive us to the station,” Enjolras muttered and took him by the hand again. “Last chance to back out,” he added when they stood in front of the door and Enjolras rang the doorbell.

Grantaire only held on to his hand as if is life depended on it.

The door swung open and they were greeted by Enjolras’ mother, no doubt about it. She had the same blonde locks, the same blue eyes, but she didn’t look stern as Enjolras oftentimes did. “Oh my, we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow,” she said cheerfully. “And who’s this?”

“That’s Grantaire, he’s my… boyfriend.” That little pause didn’t escape Grantaire and for a second he even hoped that Enjolras would back out. “Grantaire, that’s my mother, Marianne.”

Marianne’s smile never faltered, if anything, it grew. “Darling, you should have told me that you boys were coming,” she said and pulled Grantaire into a hug. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” Grantaire choked out when she’d let go of him.

“Finally?” Enjolras echoed. He looked about as confused as Grantaire felt.

“Well, it’s not like nobody noticed that you were so agitated on Christmas Eve, dear, it’s not like any of us thought you were actually going to New Orleans with a _friend_. And you’ve changed so much during the last few months, give your old mother some credit.”

Enjolras frowned. “I have?”

“Well, of course.” She smiled at them sweetly and ushered them inside and down the hallway. “Now, let’s not stand around here, come on.” She turned to Enjolras. “He’s very handsome.”

“Mum, he can hear you,” Enjolras hissed, shooting Grantaire an apologetic glace.

Grantaire only smiled awkwardly when Marianne winked at him.

“Will you boys be staying for dinner? I’m not sure when your father will be getting home, he has so much work at the company, but I’m sure he’d love to meet you, Grantaire,” she said and patted Grantaire’s arm before he and Enjolras sat down on a couch in the extremely spacious living room.

It was Enjolras who answered, though. “I don’t know. Grantaire, do you have work tomorrow.”

Grantaire knew that Enjolras knew that he didn’t have to work tomorrow, as a matter of fact they both didn’t have anywhere to go until Monday morning. This was Enjolras giving him a chance to say that he wanted to go home. “I… no, no I don’t.”

“Right, I suppose we can stay for dinner, then.”

“Wonderful, I’ll just quickly call your father and tell him to take care of everything,” she said and bustled out of the room, leaving Grantaire and Enjolras sitting on the couch.

Grantaire slowly turned his head to look at Enjolras. “She’s… quiet affectionate?”

“You should meet her sister,” Enjolras grumbled. “Actually, you probably will at some point. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when that happens.”

“I will?”

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but my mother probably likes you more than she likes me.”

Grantaire snorted. “Honestly, I’m not even sure if I’m unhappy about that.”

Enjolras’ mum was nice and she liked him and Grantaire was starting to doubt that he was actually awake because there couldn’t be so many good things happening to him all at once.

“Would you like some more overly affectionate Marianne or can I interest you in a tour of the house?”

Grantaire chose the latter and followed Enjolras, who really only kept pointing out pictures, which mostly lined the wall up the stairs. There was one of Enjolras and his parents at his graduation, one of him and Combeferre, various family photographs, and then, at the top of the stairs he pointed at another one. “That’s the one I owe you for the spaghetti photo.”

It really did show Enjolras, proudly smiling at the camera, pointing at a series of oddly-shaped mud cakes.

“Adorable,” Grantaire cooed.

Enjolras reached up and took down the frame. “I think I’m going to steal this.”

“Aren’t your parents going to miss it?”

“I doubt it, they hardly ever come up here.” Enjolras took Grantaire by the hand and led him down the hall. “Do you want to see my room?”

* * *

Grantaire was happy. He was happy because Enjolras was sitting next to him, thumb slowly running of the palm of his hand, whilst he was engaged in a shouting match with his father. Grantaire had lost track of how long they’d been arguing and at some point Marianne had actually gone and made a bowl of popcorn that she was now sharing with Grantaire.

“Does he argue with you, too?” she’d whispered to him.

“Oh yeah, a lot,” Grantaire had told her. “We don’t agree on too many things.”

“He gets that from his father,” Marianne had said knowingly. “I always enjoy when they’re not arguing with _me_. Just sit back and wait until they’re done, it’s only a matter of hours.”

And Grantaire was happy, because he was welcome here, even though Enjolras’ dad had greeted him quite coolly, had told him to please call him Richard and not Mr. Enjolras with a smile that had hadn’t quite reached his eyes, and had quickly excused himself to go take care of dinner, and Grantaire probably would have ran away as fast as he possibly could, hadn’t Enjolras been holding on to his hand so tightly.

After a few stern looks from both Enjolras and Marianne over the dinner table, Enjolras’ father started asking Grantaire about his art classes and had told him to maybe take Enjolras to a museum or two, at which Enjolras had started complaining loudly and their argument about Enjolras’ lacking appreciation for the arts had somehow turned into an argument about the current state of the economy.

And when they left, Enjolras’ dad shook Grantaire’s hand, said he was hoping to see them again soon, but Enjolras’ expression told him that that probably wouldn’t be the case. Marianne then drove them to the train station and hugged them both tightly. “Take good care of him,” she said to Enjolras, before she turned to Grantaire. “And I hope I’ll see you again.”

“Thank you,” Grantaire mumbled, “for dinner… and all that.” 

And Grantaire would have been worried about Enjolras’ persistent silence, but the firm hold he still had of his hand told him that whatever it was that upset Enjolras had nothing to do with him.

It wasn’t until they’d been on the train to New York for a couple of minutes, Grantaire already dozing off, leaning against Enjolras’ shoulder, when Enjolras finally spoke. “I’m sorry about my dad. I thought he’d be okay with it, but I guess he was hoping you’d turn into a girl halfway through dinner after all. I didn’t know he’d be so… I don’t know, I feel really bad about making you come with me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Grantaire mumbled. “He didn’t throw me out of the house or anything, and your mum was great.”

“I know, it still annoys me, though, it’s why I hardly ever go visit them. He always acts so friendly, but at the same time I just know that he’s looking down on me, because I don’t share his views and because, well, I suppose I’m not the son he wanted me to be.”

“At least he’s never told you that you’re the biggest disappointment of his life and that he wishes you didn’t exist,” Grantaire muttered. “At least you can go back home if you want to.”

“I’m sorry, Grantaire, I didn’t think-”

“It’s okay,” Grantaire interrupted. He didn’t miss his family. “Really. I’m just saying… don’t be too hard on him.”

Enjolras fell silent and Grantaire figured it would be for the best just to let him brood for a bit.

“Thanks for taking me,” Grantaire said after a while. “To New Orleans, I mean. I’m glad you did.”

“I’m glad you decided to come with me,” Enjolras replied. “You get to pick where we go next summer.”

Grantaire grinned. He already had a few ideas, but he didn’t feel like sharing them just yet. “So,” he started and nuzzled into Enjolras’ hair. “You coming to mine?”

“Don’t you have enough of me already?”

“Nah, not really.” Honestly, he’d rather spend another week glued to Enjolras. “You know, when you dropped me off last summer it was really weird not to have you around anymore.”

“Yeah, it was,” Enjolras agreed. “I’ll come to yours, then.”

When they stumbled into Grantaire’s apartment building later on, stopping every few steps to kiss, they had to try very hard not to abandon their bags somewhere halfway up the stairs. They only slowed down a little when they’d actually made it into the apartment and Enjolras let himself fall onto Grantaire’s mattress.

Grantaire joined him only a few seconds later, an arm and a leg wrapped around Enjolras, suddenly too exhausted to do anything but to hold on to him.

“I got something for you,” Enjolras mumbled. “Remember when you made that really lame joke about stealing the Declaration of Independence?” He sat up and pulled a rolled-up poster out of his bag, which he’d dropped next to Grantaire’s bed.

“Enjolras, you bought me the Declaration of Independence?” Grantaire whispered and took the poster from him.

“I figured that might be better than stealing it.”

“I’m touched.”

“You should be,” Enjolras muttered, “because that is probably the most ridiculous purchase I’ve ever made.”

Grantaire laughed. “We should go back and get the real one, though.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know. And still you love me.”

“Yes, I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I'm not going to say this series is finished, because I have a lot of thoughts about them moving in together, but I'm not sure when I'll get around to actually writing that. So, let's say it's finished for now.  
> Thank you all so much for reading this.  
> (And a very special thanks to those who have started reading my silly little road trip fic last year in April and have stuck with me ever since. I really can't believe it's been this long.)  
> (And an extremely special thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos, you guys really kept me going, thank you so, so much!)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here we go again.  
> (I apologise for the horrid porn, it just sort of happened)


End file.
